


Zootopia Version 1.1: Nick and Judy

by Doug48



Series: Zoo 1.1 [2]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Drama, F/M, Fights, No Smut, Police Procedural, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-12-24 19:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doug48/pseuds/Doug48
Summary: What if the movie was a dramatization of what actually happened? What if Judy didn't have to blackmail Nick into helping her, but he helped her for some other reason? What if Nick and Judy didn't see Mr. Manchas go savage and so they were unable to see where he was taken? I asked myself these and other questions and will try to answer them here. There will be almost twenty chapters and these will tend to alternate points of view because I think some events require a slightly different perspective. Tell me what you think!Oh, and I guess I should say I don't own the characters that were in the movie, obviously.





	1. What did you think of Zootopia?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter work. It took longer than expected because I wrote, and then rewrote, every chapter several times.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get started.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we start with Judy and Nick talking to a friend about making the movie, and how it compares with what "really" happened [or might have happened].

The movie? I loved it, OK? Loved it. I just have one major concern about it… I don't remember most of those events happening in that way. Ever hear the term “dramatic license?” Those producers certainly did! Have you ever talked to movie industry mammals? A typical conversation goes like this:

“Then what did you do?” one of them will ask, but they all want to know. 

“Well, it was late, and we were tired after walking around all day, so we went home. That is, I went home and Judy went back to the Station to fill out some reports and make sure the Chief was aware of what was going on.”

“That’s not very interesting. How about this. You go home, but you have a fight with some ninjas on the way? Or you go to Mr. Manchas’ house and he attacks you!”

“No, he didn’t!”

And so it goes. They all have ideas on what 'should' have happened, and they act like they can just rewrite events to make them better. I WISH some of those events happened the way those guys think they should have happened! Reality is normally far more complex, and sometimes far less interesting.

Mr. Big never did try to ice us. I’m sure his daughter Fru-Fru would have saved us, had she been aware of the situation, but we didn’t even see Mr. Big until Fru-Fru was already gone on her honeymoon. Also, no, we didn’t get chased by Mr. Manchas. He had already gone savage and been picked up by the timber wolves by the time we got to his house, so he wasn’t there when we arrived. Of course, we didn't know what had happened to him until later. Judy didn’t almost get fired by Chief Bogo. 

“Carrots, want to tell us what happened there?” Nick suggests

“The chief told me I would have been fired if I had done something like what you saw in the film. We had all these classes about how to talk to your boss at the academy, so I knew what I had to do, and I knew what not to do. I told the producers what the chief said and they put it in there as if I had done it, but then they had to have somebody save me, and that turned out to be Bellweather.”

“Like she would have done that!”

“She might have, Nick. Deep down, I think she really wants what she thinks is best for the City, just like we do. Also, she has that line about ‘I really liked you’ and I think she did or does or whatever.”

“You know I love you, Carrots, but that’s just… oh, never mind,” Nick says, sighing.

"The story is really very simple. It was basically two days, and then another day, in the life of a fox and a bunny. These are two mammals with nothing in common, that overcame great odds, etc, etc. Bellweather had a scheme going and then it blew up in her face." 

“Oh, that reminds me of the train," someone says. 

"Great scene, but just for the record," Judy says, "it did not blow up in our face."

"I love that part with the gas canister flying over our heads and it explodes behind us and we flinch!" Nick adds. 

"I remember seeing the smoke from that coming out of the tunnel on ZNN. That was exciting, wasn't it?" One of the producers' aids, asks. 

“I'm not saying what actually happened wasn't exciting. It did explode and we were nearby, but that was later, after we had gotten safely off of it, which was after it stopped sliding and we realized we weren’t actually dead. Have you ever actually dove off a speeding… well, anything? Then landed on something that wasn't a bunch of fluffy pillows? You don’t just hop up again and go running off. Mostly, you’re all ‘ouch, that really hurt’, or maybe just moaning a great deal, you know?”

"OK. So, why don't you tell us what really did happen?"


	2. So, there I am with Fenn....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of foxes meet a bunny cop at an ice cream parlor and then one of the foxes meets some associates.

“Now that was another fine mess you got us into.” Fennec isn’t a very large fox compared to me, but he’s never been afraid to speak his mind, possibly because he knows how much I need his help. I’m the brains and he’s the brawn in our relationship. “Fool.”

“Who are you calling a fool? You’re the one in the elephant costume.” 

“That was your idea. And it was your idea to go to the birthday party. And you didn’t tell me we weren’t invited.”

“Hey, it was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Until the birthday boy / kit saw me and screamed because he’d nearly been trampled by an elephant yesterday. Then we had fun getting kicked out because, you know what, we weren’t on the guest list! And now we’re having fun walking to the van earlier than expected with nothing better to do the rest of the day.”

“Isn’t it great?” I ask. 

There are things I like and don’t like about the City of Zootopia where Fennec and I live. Large and small, predator and prey, mammals all live more or less together and interact more or less constantly. Our ancestors never used to do this, of course, and foxes, wolves, lions, and tigers used to eat prey animals like rabbits and sheep and whatever. Also, hippos and elephants didn’t used to go anywhere near foxes and sheep, but Zootopia has multiple climate controlled habitats near each other, so mammals can easily intermingle if they’re willing to leave their own climate controlled, or in the case of Little Rodentia, size controlled, habitat for a short while. Currently, Fennec and I are Downtown, which, like Rodentia nearby, tends to be warm and dry. Elephants actually like warm and dry; red foxes like me tend to prefer cooler weather in someplace like Tundratown, but Downtown is where the action is, so here we are. Also, I'm not entirely welcome in Tundratown right now, but that's another story.

It’s Monday, the middle of May, and almost noon. Not a cloud in the sky, and the city’s climate control systems are working perfectly so the weather is very comfortable for all mammals. 

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“How about you tell me why you hustled those timber wolves on Friday and stole their car?”

“You know about that?”

He grunts and says, “I heard about it at the bar after you turned in for the morning. Night, that is.”

“Well, see, they were just begging for me to hustle them. It’s like they had a sign. I mean, they don’t know me, but they expected me to sit in the getaway car while they rob a bank. Because I’m a fox and they’re wolves. Canine former carnivores stick together, right? Not me; and not for a stupid bank robbery.”

“So, you drove away with the car, parked it somewhere illegally so it would be impounded, and then forgot all about it.”

“Yes, until you reminded me just now. Have I told you lately that you’re a really great friend and really great at keeping me out of trouble?”

“Really? You know, if you had let me know sooner what you did, I might have been better able to deal with it. Now, we’re stuck with the situation. The Lobos brothers are very angry and apparently very determined to find you.”

“If they do, you can do your thing and then we can help ourselves to whatever money they have on them.”

“Don’t trivialize this. Hey! Where are we going?” He stops and looks at me, so I stop also. 

“Well, there’s a store I want to visit. They sell jumbo pops, and they’re elephants, and you’re dressed like one, so….”

“So, you think they’ll just give us a jumbo pop? We could just, I don’t know, buy one? You are aware of that right? Don’t you still have money?”

“Yes, but that’s beside the point. They won’t sell to us anyway because we’re foxes, not elephants.”

“Well, of course we’re-. Oh. Right. I just got hustled into helping you with your little crusade again, didn’t I? You just can’t let those small-minded mammals alone. Got to rub their noses in it every chance you get.”

“Well, yeah….”

“You see that cop doing the meter maid thing across the street, right? What do you think she’s going to do when we cause a scene in there because they refuse to sell to us? She’s a rabbit, we’re foxes, and they’re elephants. We’ll probably get arrested for disturbing the peace and possibly do some jail time. I’d prefer not to go to jail again, thank you very much.”

“Will we get arrested? No, we won’t. I heard about this cop on the news. First bunny cop. Wants to make the world a better place and all that. I’m sure she’ll take our side if I present the narrative right, and you know I’m good at that. You’re my son, it’s your birthday, and you idolize elephants. That’s why you’re dressed like one. I’m trying to buy you a jumbo pop, but they won’t sell to me because they’re mean and heartless or whatever.”

“Fine, how do we get her involved? Wait for the elephants to call the police?” He walks toward the store as he asks this, so I don’t think he expects a reply. 

“No…” I walk out in front of a truck and it honks at me. I pretend not to see the bunny cop stop what she’s doing and look our way. She probably doesn’t see Fennec, who has already entered the store.

I go in behind him and get in line. We’re next and I’m looking up at the elephant behind the counter when Fennec signals me that the cop has come in the door behind us. He also gives me the “there’s a problem” hand signal, so I'll be ready when I do see her.

As expected, the elephants refuse to sell a jumbo pop to me and as expected, the idealistic cop gets into the argument on our side. I’m very happy until I see the fox repellent on her belt. 

Damnit. It’s always three steps forward and two or three back. I made the closed-minded elephants sell to us with the help of a closed-minded bunny cop that specifically doesn’t like foxes. I’m momentarily unsure of what to do, so I carry on with the plan, letting her buy us the jumbo pop, and then introducing my “son” and I.

We go outside and I can see her trying to think of something nice to say to these poor, mistreated foxes. It’s like she thinks this sort of thing is a surprise to us and she obviously doesn’t realize we provoked it this time. Then I realize something. It is a surprise to her. Elephants, foxes, and bunnies are supposed to get along in Zootopia, even if she personally fears and dislikes us. Maybe she’s not as small minded as I thought? Then she finally comes up with something to say. 

“You’re a great dad and a real articulate fellow, Mr. Wilde,” with an extra dose of enthusiasm the way you might talk to a child. “I just hate to see such closed-minded mammals mistreating you that way.”

And again, I’m very briefly speechless. Articulate? What did she expect, some sort of drooling idiocy because I’m a fox? I consider replying with something along the lines of “Well, shucks, ma’am, we’uns are just as happy as pigs in the mud when an authority figure such as you takes time out of her day doing important things to helps us. Paint me purple and steal my prize chicken!” But I don’t say that. 

“And I’m glad to meet someone so non-condescending,” I say instead. That goes right over her head of course. Later she might wonder, but just now, she thinks I’m complimenting her instead of making a point about the way she’s treating us. 

She leaves happy in one direction and Fennec and I leave with the free jumbo pop in the other. 

Fennec, of course, wastes no time getting me focused again. “Now what do we do, Dr. Wilde?”

“Don’t call me that. It wasn’t funny the last time you said it, and it’s not funny now. Sergeant.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, let's think about it. You’ve got those jars, a big cooler, and those popsickle sticks in your van, so we’re taking this jumbo to be melted and turned into a bunch of smaller popsickles. We’ll call them... pawsickles and use your foot prints as molds. Maybe we can sell them to… I don’t know, bankers? Some mammals with money, anyway.”

“Again with this scheme? Great River, give me strength.”

We’re half way through melting the ice cream when we see the cop again. Or rather, she sees us and starts to approach. She stops when she sees what we're doing, however. Fennec signals me, but it’s too late by then, so we just carry through. When all else fails, act normal. I think for a moment she's going to confront us right there, but she waits. 

We get in the van and start driving. She follows us all over town watching every step of Operation Pawsickle in that ridiculous, little traffic trike. Melting the jumbo, taking the juice to Tundra town, refreezing into smaller sizes, and then selling the smaller ones to lemmings when they get off work. None of this is illegal, of course, but there are several health code regulations we are ignoring and we had just recently heard her rattling off a bunch of THOSE, so I know she knows what’s wrong with this picture. We sell the red sticks to some beavers and she sees that, too.

Fennec looks in the van's rear-view mirror and asks, “what do we do about the bunny?” 

“Well, she hasn’t pulled us over yet, so she’s not sure we’re doing anything illegal.” 

“We ARE breaking several food safety regulations.”

“True, but she’s Zoo police, not Zoo Food and Drug. They’re different departments that rarely communicate, and she would probably not be warmly received if they thought she was horning in on their territory. You know how these government agencies are.”

He nods and I continue. “She’ll probably keep doing this ‘follow and gather information’ thing until we split up and then she’ll confront me when I’m alone. Drop me off at 4th and Church, and I’ll give her a tour of some back alleys and see if I can get her stuck in that sidewalk construction over on Commerce.”

“Fine. Call me when you’re done. I’ll be at Vinny’s.”

“Will do.”

The meeting with the bunny goes as I expected after Fennec and I part ways. She starts out by calling me a liar, and seems very upset about it. I distract her and try to get away, but not too hard, and she follows along, still berating me. She's not paying attention to where we're going. I try to give her good advice at various times and tell her I’m not doing anything illegal, but that doesn't seem to help much. She doesn’t talk about the food safety thing. The problem is that she had apparently decided to help me because I am a “good” fox and not one of the “bad” ones, and so I disappointed her when I turned out to be one of the bad ones. For that, I'm supposed to be ashamed, but I’m not. She doesn’t know me and had prejudged me without realizing it. In return, I told her that we are what we are. 

“Dumb bunny,” I say, gesturing at her. “Sly fox,” gesturing at myself. 

“I AM NOT A DUMB BUNNY,” she replies with some heat in those purple eyes. 

“And that’s not wet cement,” I say, as she sinks. She had been so focused on my words that she wasn’t paying enough attention to the sidewalk repairs in this area, and not paying enough attention to where I stopped. I knew that she would get in front of me, so all I had to do was stop right here. 

“Keep at it. Maybe you’ll be a meter maid supervisor some day!” I can see the beaver workers moving toward her and wonder how she will explain THIS to her supervisor when they report it. Some first day this turned out to be, eh?

I cross the street quickly and don’t notice the beavers pull her out almost immediately. I didn't know I would be grateful later, but just now I’m too preoccupied with what she had to say and what I felt as I replied. You are what you are, right? How can you possibly be something else, and why would anyone let you?

That’s when two sets of timber wolf paws grab me and throw me into a nearby alley.


	3. Now this is real police work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rabbit has to save the fox from a couple of wolves

“Thanks, guys. So sorry about the sidewalk,” I say to the beaver work crew as two of them lift me out and put me on the dry concrete. 

“Eh, no problem. We get this sort of thing all the time. You bunny cops should really be more careful about wet cement,” the head beaver says. He looks very serious and several of his workers take a sudden interest in concrete for some reason. 

“Well, umm, Ok,” I say and wave, before turning away. Should I tell him I’m the only bunny cop, so those others are probably imposters? No, I think I’ve used up too much of his time already. 

Now where did that snarky fox go?

Then I see something odd about the activity across the street. It’s not the fox, but it is a wolf, and he’s taking an unusual interest in his surroundings while apparently talking to someone in that alley. It looks like he's afraid someone will see whatever it is that he's doing. Our instructors told us at the academy that this sort of “unusual interest” behavior can turn out to be some sort of criminal activity, but not always. Also, this sort of activity is usually only noticed when it’s a mammal of a different species. In this case, I probably wouldn’t notice if a rabbit was doing it, but here it’s a wolf and I do notice. Then I remember something else they told us at the Academy. Never say anything like this on an official report!

I need to get out of the beavers’ way anyway, so I cross the street, keeping the alley, and the curious wolf, on my left. Then the wolf enters the alley and so I walk in that direction, listening. 

“…we’re going to cut you seven ways. First, we’ll take off an ear, maybe a finger or two. How’s that sound to you?” Wolf voice. 

“There’s no need to-“ Fox voice, cut off with a exhalation of breath as if he’s been punched. Which he probably was. 

I need to put a stop to this and call it in, so I bring out my radio and push the button. “This is Officer Hopps. I am near the 2000 block of Commerce Street. Possible 10-31 in the alley. 11-99. Perpetrator is at least one male timber wolf and victim is a male red fox-.“ The wolves, it turns out there are two of them and not just one, charge when they see me.

That is, one charges immediately and the other throws Nick on the ground while watching me and the other wolf. Nick crab walks into a convenient corner of the alley where he is now as far out of the way as possible. I'll notice later that there is no other way out of the alley, but right now I’m watching the first wolf.

He’s waving a knife and not really trying all that hard to close the distance between us. He’s probably thinking I’ll run and he can chase me because he’s a big, bad wolf and I'm just a little bunny. I get ready by putting away the radio and brushing off my ridiculous hat. He gives me plenty of time. 

“Bunny want to fight?” he asks and comes close enough to try a slash with the knife in his right paw. The knife is shiny, but isn’t very heavy or long and he doesn’t seem to know how to use it. I jump to my right, his left, bounce off a convenient wall, and land behind him. He’s slow turning around, so I jump again, land on his back, and then give him a good two footed kick. He sprawls forward and I land between him and the other one. 

Wolf #2 just stands there a moment, so I identify myself again. “I am officer Hopps. Put your paws out where I can see them.“ He doesn’t seem interested in hearing what he needs to do and he pulls a knife out of his clothes. What is it with these wolves and common courtesy? I take a moment to check on the other wolf and then jump away as this one rushes me. Wolf #1 is still on the ground. 

#2 is also right pawed, and fast, but he tries to cut me and grapple with me at the same time, both without success. He’s not very good at fighting, or anyway, not very experienced, and so he keeps the knife in his right paw while using the left to grab at me as I jump. I easily avoid him and manage to get close enough to his left knee to place a kick. He collapses and I jump away. I take stock and try to decide if the fight is over after coming to rest again. 

It is. Wolf #1 is still on the ground, and Wolf #2 is rocking back and forth, also on the ground, but using both paws to hold his injured knee. Now, what do I do next? Oh, yes, crime scene control.

I walk over and kick the knife out of Wolf #2’s reach. He’s hurt and not in immediate danger, so I don’t move him. I check on the other one and make sure the knife is out of his reach. He's still breathing and I can hear his heart beating, but he’s apparently out cold. I pull out my radio and finish calling it in while keeping an eye on things. I see Nick and wink at him to let him know that everything is going to be OK. 

He just stares at me at first and I notice that I can now see a great deal more white in his eyes. I finish with the radio and I’m about to go get my hat when he says “Carrots… Officer Hopps. I’m sorry about earlier.” He pauses, then says “Thank you,” quietly. 

“Eh. This is what we do at the ZPD,” I tell him. I help him to his feet and guide him out of the alley so he won’t be in the way. He’s in shock, so I more or less steer him to a convenient curb and park him there as my fellow officers and a couple of ambulances arrive. “Stay here, OK? We’ll need to get your statement later.” 

Uniformed mammals start getting out of vehicles and I am again reminded of my time at the academy. This would normally be the start of an exercise and I would be one of those getting out of a car. Most of them look at me first and then the crime scene. At the academy, we used to do the same thing, but it’d be an instructor standing where I am. The senior officer, Delgato, walks toward me, and so I give the tiger a sharp salute.

“Hopps. Don’t do that. This ain’t the academy. Just tell me what happened,” he says when he's close enough. He’s got something on his shirt and I realize my call probably caught him code 7, eating dinner. 

I fill him in and leave out nothing. While I’m doing this, I follow him around the crime scene giving information and gesturing. “...two unidentified wolves with knives. One fox victim, unarmed. Both wolves may need to be hospitalized.” He listens to what I have to say and nods once or twice. 

“Victim’s name is Nickolas Wilde. I met him earlier today,” I tell Delgato, and gesture toward Church Street. I hope he doesn’t talk to those beavers! He shows no interest in that, however. 

“Met him earlier and followed him here?” Delgato asks me. 

I nod. “Talked to him across the street. He came over here and then these wolves grabbed him. I saw what was happening, so I came over to help,” I say, gesturing to Nick and the wolves and the alley. He looks at me a little oddly, but doesn’t comment on my choice of words. “Help the victim, of course,” I add hurriedly. 

“OK. I understand you don’t have a cruiser, so use mine to fill out a report and include a diagram with the basics: one alley, two wolves, one fox. Be brief and honest, but don’t include any unnecessary details like you’ve been doing,” he says. 

This is unexpected. At the Academy, they told us to be as complete as possible in the reports so we can remember what we did. Now he’s telling me not to do that?

I must have looked confused because he continues “Bunch of mammals with no idea what it’s like out here are going to see your report. Possibly some mammals that don’t like the police much. Words like ‘police brutality’ might be used.” Now he’s gesturing at one of the wolves with paramedics working on him. He’s obviously in pain and the knee looks worse now than it did. 

“Go and write the report. I’ll talk to Mr. Wilde.”

I found out later what was said, and it was pretty standard. Name, place of residence, and employer, if you have one. The only non-standard question involved the use of force. 

“Mr. Wilde, in your opinion, did Officer Hopps use excessive force?”

“No. She didn’t. Both wolves were armed and she wasn’t. Also, there was only one of her and two of them. She stopped fighting when they did, and then tried to help them as best she could when it was over.“

I finish my work at the scene, including filing the report and reassuring the victim, and then leave to find my trike.

My parents call while I'm on my way back to the station. I know they will worry about me if I ignore the call, so I answer in the usual way with voice and video. I hold the phone in one paw and park the trike with the other because it's wrong to drive while distracted. 

“Hey! It’s my parents,” I say. I make sure to sound happy, but I don’t get my ears up in time. 

“Hey, Judy. How was your first day? Was it everything you expected?”

“That and more! I’m doing important work and getting along pretty good with my supervisor,” I tell them, thinking about Delgato.

“Hey, Stu, look at that. It’s a traffic vest,” mom says. 

“Oh glorious day. You’re a meter maid. It’s the safest job on the force! Meter maid, Meter maid!” This cheers them up considerably. 

I consider, very briefly, telling them what I was doing earlier this evening, but the chanting is just too annoying. “Guys, it’s been a really long day and I’m only just now heading home, so can we talk more later?”

“OK dear. You get some rest. Those meters aren’t going to maid themselves!” and they hang up. "Bye," I say to no one in particular and get started back to the station again. 

I hear from Clawhauser a few days later that Delgato was very impressed and told the chief what a great job I did. The cheetah knows pretty much everything because he handles all the paperwork, and I know how to get him to talk to me. I expect Chief Bogo to discuss it with me, but several days go by and he doesn't, so I stop thinking about it. The chief doesn’t seem to like to praise his officers and prefers a kind of “who cares” attitude in public, but I know he's just trying to hide the way he really does care and how much. It's in nearly all the cop movies. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't in the movie, but I felt like I needed it. I moved some things around in my story because I decided to remove most of the coincidences and convenient things that probably would not have happened. I liked the scene where Judy gets fired and then rescued by Bellweather and then gets two days to solve the case, but I don't feel like it's very realistic or necessary. Judy would have chased this down with a deadline or not and she would have known better than to keep pushing Bogo that way. Also, I had some concerns about Nick's motivations as he continued to help her even while trying to get off "the hook" until they meet Manchas.


	4. Watching a fight in an alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fox is getting mugged in an alley by two timber wolves when a rabbit saves him.

As I stumble backward into the alley, I realize several things. First, Fenn won’t be getting me out of this one because I sent him away so I could deal with the rabbit alone. Second, I’m familiar with this alley, and there is no exit except the one with two angry wolves. Third, they have knives so they plan to cut me, and not bite. We modern predators seldom bite each other unless it’s within mated pairs or part of a dominance ritual. I learned early that biting is not considered to be civilized fighting. Fourth, I’m making a list to avoid thinking about what’s about to happen. God of foxes, save me!

I get a good look at the wolves after I land on my butt in the alley. It’s the Lobos brothers: Lonnie and Louie. 

“The car, fox, where’s the car?” Lonnie asks. His brother is hanging back a bit near the mouth of the alley, keeping an eye out for anyone who might interfere. The three of us know that one fox doesn’t stand a chance against one wolf, much less two. First, these wolves are both twice my mass. Second, I’m unarmed. I'm a talker, not a fighter, and I've never had any sort of training related to knife fighting except that one should always try to bring a gun to any knife fight. I don't have a gun. 

I get up, and Lonnie pushes me further into the alley. Louie, satisfied that we’ll be alone for awhile, enters the alley behind his brother, but stands back a bit. I try reasoning with them. 

“Guys, look, this is a misunderstanding. I can get you another car-” Lonnie punches me and I collapse again. This time I don’t try to get up, but instead try to escape by crab walking backward.

“Not a misunderstanding. You knew what you had to do, and instead, you drove away with the car. For that, we’re going to cut you seven ways. We’ll take an ear, some skin, maybe a finger, so everyone who sees you will know not to mess with us. Then you’ll work with us-“ but Louie doesn’t get to finish either.

We all hear the rabbit’s voice at the same time. “This is Officer Hopps at the mouth of an alley near the 2000 block of Commerce. Possible 10-31. 11-99!” 

Surprise stops the wolves from reacting for just a second or two. Then Louie, who is closer to the rabbit, charges at her. She brushes off her hat and puts away the radio, but doesn’t run. 

I’m not sure how to describe what happens next. Ever see one of those kung-fu movies? In those movies, they’re all jumping around and making noise, and flipping and nobody ever seems to get seriously injured. You know it’s ridiculous, even if you’ve never actually tried any of those tricks yourself and found out how hard it is to do it right. This isn’t like that. 

I see the whole thing from my position near the other end of the alley, but it's sort of slowed down or speeded up or something. Images jump out at me. Wolves swinging knives. Rabbit jumping. Not hopping, jumping 10-15 feet at a time like some sort of child's bouncing ball. Bunny ball meets wolf, bunny kicks herself clear, wolf falls. Two wolves and one bunny. It was over in probably 30 seconds or so. Both wolves are down and out of the fight; one of them might be dead and is at least unconscious. The other one has a shattered knee, and he’s biting his lip to avoid howling in pain. 

The bunny stops jumping, looks around, and then sort of shifts gears. She walks over and checks each wolf and kicks their knives away. She moves the unconscious one, probably so he can breath better, and stares at the other one. Then she walks over to the mouth of the alley, takes out her radio, and speaks into it. Or anyway, I think she does. I can’t hear very well at the moment and my vision has tunneled down so I’m not seeing very well either. I focus on the rabbit as she walks back over to me. She seems kind of hyped up, like a boxer immediately before a match bouncing from one foot to the other. 

She puts the radio away and looks at me, and I say what I’m thinking, “Thanks. You saved my life.” She probably didn’t, really, but even now I know she saved me from a great deal of pain and misery. She didn’t have to do it, and she risked getting beat or cut by those wolves who were far larger than her, but she did it anyway, alone, and without waiting for backup. She did it even though I had been rude to her earlier. 

“Well, that’s just what we do at the ZPD,” she says, and winks at me before turning away.

It’s a good thing she did turn away because that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s flirting with me! Now! Likes she’s a predator and I’m a prey, or at the very least, like she’s the mighty alpha male and I’m the vixen in distress. I bite the sleeve of my shirt to stop laughing. 

One of the officers escorts me out of the alley and sits me down on a nearby curb. “Don’t go away,” he or she says. I see a blue uniform, but I'm not tracking well. I’m not sure, but this might be the rabbit? I turn around and there is no one near me. Several more cop cars and a couple of ambulances arrive. 

I stay there on the curb while listening to the vehicles, smelling the vehicle exhaust fumes, and watching the pretty red and blue lights. Soon another officer comes over and identifies himself as Delgato. He has some questions and writes down my answers mostly without asking for clarification. 

“Name?”

“Nickolas Wilde.”

“Residence?”

I give him a false address out of habit. “401 Commerce Street. Apt 34.” I really don’t like anyone knowing about my home near the old airfield. He doesn’t ask for any identification, and that’s good because I don’t have any on me. I take the bus or the trolley or the train if I need to go somewhere locally, so I’m not carrying a driver’s license. 

“Job?”

“Freelance contractor.” Again, I don’t like anyone knowing what I do, and again he just writes it down as if I told him I was a plumber or fire fighter or whatever. 

Finally we get to what he really wants to know. “Tell me what happened here tonight.”

“Officer Hopps stopped me from being knifed,” I tell him. He’s got me in the habit of simple answers, so that’s what I give him now. 

“You have some sort of prior relationship with Officer Hopps?”

“We met earlier today. I tried to sell her a jumbo pop,” I say, trying to make a joke. He ignores this. 

“Why did these wolves want to harm you?”

“We had a misunderstanding. They wanted me to help them rob a bank, so I may have driven away with their getaway car.”

“May have?”

“OK. I took their get away car and parked it illegally so it would get towed. This was last week. Friday. Blue impala. Got a big rust spot on the hood.”

He makes a note. I don’t know why, but I thought he’d say something like ‘oh, yeah, I remember that car.’

“Ok. Describe the altercation.“

“The wolves pushed me into the alley and made some threats. Hopps showed up with her radio, and I heard her calling for backup. The wolves rushed her and she… took them out. They had knives, but she went paw to paw with them. No hesitation. No fear. She just… fought until they gave up, then she kicked their knives away and tried to make the unconscious one comfortable.”

“Did she use excessive force?”

What kind of question is that? I wonder, but I think he's only asking because he knows what I’ll say tonight. Given more time to think about it, I might not, but tonight there is only one answer. “No, absolutely not. These are wolves. Almost your size and cats like you are far bigger than bunnies like her. Also, they were armed. I saw her nearly get slashed at least three times and she never even tried to use a weapon.”

He writes this down, probably word for word. As he finishes, I realize something. She was armed, after a fashion, but she never even tried to use that red can of fox repellent spray she carries around. These were wolves, so it might not have done any good, but it might have helped. Wolves and foxes are similar, after all. Also, why does she carry fox repellent and then risk her life helping a fox? 

I ponder this as I watched Delgato leave. Lonnie and Louie are already in ambulances and gone. Various cops are finishing up whatever they were doing and are starting to leave as well. 

“Are you going to be OK?” It’s Officer Hopps, but I didn’t notice her until she spoke.

A great many answers come and go in my mind, but my mouth is on automatic right now. “I’ll be fine.” Then I add, “I’ll call Fenn and he’ll come and get me.”

“Oh, yeah, the short one. Nearly forgot about him.“ She pats my shoulder and starts to walk away, but stops when I clear my throat. 

“Ah. I want you to know that I pay my debts. I know everybody, and just about everything. If you need something and I can do it, it’ll be done,” I tell her. She pats my shoulder again, smiling. 

“It’s OK,” she says. 

It's not 'OK,' and I can see by the way she looks at me that she doesn't believe me. She sees a useless con-mammal, and probable victim of his own stupid decision to get involved with those other criminals. Nothing more. 

I text Fenn and wait. She waits with me silently until she hears Fenn’s van and then starts walking back toward her trike on Church Street without asking for a lift. 

Fenn was at first glad to see me and then shocked that I had gotten in trouble without him. It’s his self-appointed mission to keep this sort of thing from happening to me, after all. I’m the brains, and he’s the brawn. This time, Brains screwed up and almost died. Not so brainy after all. 

“Hey, there you are. When I didn’t hear from you after thirty minutes, I figured you must be having a good time and maybe giving that rabbit more than just a talking to. Maybe giving her a taste of your…” He hesitates when he gets a good look at me. “Ummm. What the hell happened?” 

So I told him. 

“Well, no reason to worry about those wolves anymore. Sounds like one of them may be dead, and the other is certainly crippled. They’ll stay away from you from now on!”

“Ambulances took them to the hospital,” I reminded him. 

“So? They’re preds. They’ll get minimal care and then kicked out on the street with some pain meds that they’ll sell the first chance they get,” Fenn decides. He’s probably right.

“I could help with the hospital thing.”

“Oh, for the love of… How many times are we going to have a discussion like this? It's their fault. They chose to attack you. You have some resources and could pull some strings. Question is, should you? They tried to cut you up and a bunny saved you. A bunny! A bunny cop that you insulted earlier today. A cop that had no reason to help you, but did it anyway this time. What will happen the next time you pull a stunt and the cop that sees it is NOT Officer Hopps?”

“Let’s go back to the airfield,” I suggest. I don’t want to have the discussion again, after all, and I already know what I am going to do.

“Not yet. You told me what happened, but you need to get drunk and relive it again. Sooner is better for less nightmares. You know I’m right. I told you what to do when something like this happened to me, and you helped me by doing the same thing. Remember? Hey! Are you listening to me?"

"I'm listening," I reassure him and then put away my phone.

We get some really strong, and really horrible, alcohol, return to the airfield, and get drunk and talk until I fall asleep. Or maybe he crashed first? My last thoughts before passing out are memories of my fear that the bunny would run and leave me to face the wolves alone, and then my shame because I’m glad she didn’t. 

I still have a nightmare, of course, but it isn’t too bad. I know I 'm not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this wasn't in the movie, and I already told the story about what happened here, but that was from Judy's perspective. This is Nick's perspective and so it's slightly different.
> 
> You may have noticed that I'm not cutting and pasting the dialogue to make it match. I'm working on having "real world" first person narratives, which tend to be less than entirely accurate. Nick and Judy would remember the same event differently, and so their stories are going to be different. I'm not sure if they're too different or just enough....


	5. It's time to repay the favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fox helps the bunny search for the otter, and they get some clues.

I stay close to Fennec a great deal in the next several days. Fennec says those wolves are out of action, but they might not be the only mammals annoyed with me. We hear later they are out of the hospital and that someone had arranged for them to get slightly better medical care than they would otherwise have received. He doesn't ask me about that, and I don't volunteer anything I might know. 

I’m pushing Fenn down Broadway on a Saturday morning when I see Officer Hopps again. But first, I hear that ridiculous tricycle of hers while Fenn snores in the baby carriage. He was tired that morning, and several other mornings this week, so I had to either not go anywhere today until I had to attend my session at 2 PM, or figure out a way to let him sleep and bring him with me again while I stretched my legs. And so here I am pushing a baby carriage. 

“Hey, it’s officer Toot-Toot." I say, and stop pushing the carriage. 

She stops her trike. “Ha ha. Got a minute?” she asks. "I need to ask you some questions about a case."

“Sure. What do you need?” 

She hesitates, looking at my oddly. Then she kind of shrugs, gets out of the trike, pulls a carrot shaped pen out of a pocket, opens a folder, and shows me a picture of an otter. “Do you know this mammal?” she asks. 

“I know everyone. That’s Emit Otterton. Runs a flower shop on Broadway. Or anyway, he did. The wife is doing it now. I haven’t seen him around in two or three weeks,” I tell her. 

She takes out another picture and shows it to me. “How about this? Do you remember when this was?”

This time it’s another picture of the otter walking on the sidewalk eating a pawsickle, but this time it's zoomed out and more obviously taken from one of the closed-circuit TV cameras that are all over Zootopia these days. I’ve heard the mayor and the city council repeatedly assure everyone that sidewalk cameras are used only for emergencies and the cameras over the roads are only for traffic jams. I’m not sure I believe that and I don’t like the cameras much, but I can see how they must be a big help to cops in a situation like this.

“That’s the last time I saw Emit. We spoke briefly,” I tell her.

“Did he say anything about where he was going? Do you happen to know where he went?”

“Yes, but… One moment,” I say, holding up a paw as she re-arranges her documents and then puts the folder back in the trike. 

I knock on the baby carriage to wake Fennec. He unrolls the hood, looks at the cop, looks at me, and then hunts around until he finds a Jr. Police Sticker she gave him on Monday. He puts the sticker on my shirt pocket and says, “Have fun working with the fuzz!” Then, laughing, he jumps to the ground, folds up the carriage, and walks away with it. 

I turn back to the bunny. 

“Yes, I know where he went, but I’m not sure it’s the kind of place a cute little bunny would feel comfortable,” I tell her. I wonder how she’ll react to that word? I don't know many bunnies, but I’ve never met one yet that liked it. 

“Don’t call me cute,” she says, and walks over to her trike. “Hop in.” Then she blushes and her ears go a little sideways. 

“Hey, Carrots, isn’t that my line?” I smirk at her and she makes a face, as I expected after she heard the nickname again. This might be fun.

It is fun. The best part is when Carrots sees first the yak, and then, almost everyone else, in the fur, at the Oasis. I thought she might die of embarrassment! I only wish the yak had told Carrots and I that we had to follow the ‘leave your clothes here’ rule like everyone else. Now THAT would have made anything else entirely worthwhile! 

Carrots hesitates when we leave the Oasis about 30 minutes later after talking to the yak and an elephant, and I can see she’s thinking. She is probably going to make some excuse and then leave me to go to her precinct and run the license plate number the yak gave us. In a few days, I’ll probably hear that she found the missing mammals.

“Nick, I hate to continue imposing on you, but I’m not in the police system yet and so I can’t run a license plate. I can’t ask a coworker because the chief wants to see how I handle this on my own,” she says. 

He pushed you into the deep end without a life vest to see if you’d sink, you mean? Aloud, I ask, “Why does he dislike you so much?”

“Oh, the chief doesn’t dislike me. He just wants to see if I have what it takes,” she says, sounding very sincere. 

I realize now that there might be an easy way to read bunny emotions. Just look at the ears… Right now, they’re up, but not all the way. They’d been down when we were in the Oasis, but that was clearly embarrassment. In the alley on Monday, I’d seen them pulled back, so that was probably anger, or she was simply trying to keep them out of the way. I may need to experiment further.

“Right,” I say. “Don’t worry, I know someone that can run a plate. I’ll text him while you drive us there, OK?” 

Her ears come all the way up, and she says, “Thanks Nick!”

We make it to the Department of Mammal Vehicles in record time, and I barely have time to text Flash. 

“You drive very aggressively, you know that?” I observe as we get out and head toward the entrance. “It’s hard to text when I have to use both paws to hold on.”

“Why are you complaining? We’re here, aren’t we?” 

“Results aren’t the only thing that matters, Carrots,” I say, trying to sound wise. She just looks at me like I’d said something silly, but at least she doesn’t complain about the nick name the way she did the first day we met. 

We enter the building, and Carrots is unable to hide her disappointment. “They’re all sloths?” Now the ears are all the way down and she stops just inside the doors. 

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, guiding her toward one of the ‘Next Window Please’ signs and the sloth behind it. 

“Flash, I’d like you to meet Officer Judy Hopps. We’re in a bit of hurry because I’ve got a thing after lunch, but we’d like you to run this plate,” I say, handing over a piece of paper with the license number from Judy’s notebook. 

Flash looks at me, and then at Carrots, and then at the paper. Then he starts to type on his machine. He doesn’t say anything until he’s done, which is about five minutes later. During this time, the rabbit becomes less and less effective at hiding her frustration. 

“Is he done yet?” she asks after a couple of minutes. 

“Almost,” I say. “Patience, my young apprentice.”

“Now what are you talking about?”

I don’t reply, but make a note to myself. I’ll have to introduce her to Star Boars. 

Finally, Flash hands over a printout with two pieces of information. The first is Tundratown Limo, and an address. The second is ‘ask Nick about Star Boars’.

“Thanks!” Judy says, and is about to leave when I stop her. 

“Hey Flash, want to hear a joke?”

The rabbit looks at me like I’m nuts, but I ignore this. 

Flash replies over the course of the next half minute. “Yes,” he says. He’s keeping his answers short as a favor to me because I really am in a hurry. 

“What do you call a three humped camel?” I ask. 

The reply takes a minute. “I don’t know,” he says. 

“Pregnant!” I say. 

I wait until he starts laughing and say, “Catch you later, Flash. Thanks! Owe you one.”

We go out the doors and Judy, ears fully up again, heads immediately for her trike. I follow more slowly and she sees my hesitation. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I can see you’re eager to catch the next clue. It’s Saturday, so Tundratown Limo will be open for business until at least five. It’s noon and I have an appointment at two downtown. So, I’m thinking we’ll do lunch, you’ll drop me off, and then you can go to Tundratown.”

“Look, it’s OK if you don’t want to hang around helping me anymore today,” the rabbit says. 

“No, I really do have an appointment. It’s my PO.”

“Parole officer? You’re not on parole. I checked.” 

“Oh? So you know all about me and my wicked ways?” I say. I doubt it. We hid things fairly well. 

“I might surprise you. So, lunch?” 

We go to the mall food court and Judy orders some sort of carrots and lettuce concoction, which doesn’t surprise me a bit. I order fish somewhere else and am thus spared the need to haggle about who pays and who may or may not have hustled the other into paying for a jumbo pop. We talk awhile and then leave around 1:30 PM so she can drop me off at the University by 2:00 PM. 

“I’ll check out Tundratown Limo and then text you when I’m done. You’ll do the same?”

“No, I’ll do this thing here, and not in Tundratown, and then text you when I’m done,” I reply after we stop at the University. I watch her ears, which twitch briefly, but don’t go down as I expected. I also don’t get the rude hand gesture I would have gotten from Fenn, or the bared teeth I might have gotten from a different predator for that matter, as she drives away. 

“I think we’re enjoying this,” I say to myself. I am, anyway, and I find myself hoping she is as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? I prefer this more helpful and far less passive aggressive version of Nickolas Wilde. I don't think I changed Judy Hopps much, and there is more from her point of view later.


	6. The fox is annoying but helpful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunny gets help from a fox

The chief may not have had any questions about the attempted fox mugging in the ally, but I did get in trouble the next day when I entered Little Rodentia without authorization. He knew I was in hot pursuit of a thief, I had been specifically asked by a citizen to catch that thief, and no one told me not to enter Little Rodentia, but the chief felt like I should have known better, he was taking crap for it, and crap roles downhill. Mrs. Otterton arrived during my counseling session, and I almost volunteered to help her, but the chief’s glare stopped me. I was in enough trouble already, so I went back to writing 200 traffic tickets a day without speaking to the otter that day. 

I finally got the case on Friday afternoon. This was after the Chief looked at my parking ticket number and gave me some advice including "don't rush and don't screw up." I am supposed to be off duty on Saturday and Sunday, but I decide not to just go home and wait for Monday. 

I know I'm going to need help from that fox, but I am not sure if a con-mammal like him will accept helping a cop like me. With that in mind, I take care of some Wilde research on Friday night, and then take the trike and go looking for Mr. Wilde around 9 AM on Saturday after my morning jog and breakfast. I could have started looking earlier, but red foxes tend to be nocturnal and my research, and personal observations, have shown that he has a certain disinterest in working a regular job with regular hours. Mammals like that tend to stay up late at night and then get up late in the morning. 

I first check the address he gave us after the attempted mugging on Monday evening, but it’s an office building. Clearly not anyone’s house or apartment. From there, I broaden my search centering on the location where the van dropped him off and including the alley where the crime occurred. I soon find Finnic’s van, and then see Nick walking away on a nearby sidewalk pushing a baby carriage. Finn is probably in the carriage and they’re probably getting ready for some scam or other similar to what I saw at the ice cream place. I rehearse what I will say if, or rather when, he says no, make sure I have my carrot recorder pen ready, and then go to meet them.

I approach in the trike from Nick’s left side, and behind him, keeping on the street, but close to the sidewalk. A few other vehicles, mostly smaller than me, pass by. I see Nick’s posture change very slightly when he hears my trike, but he does not turn around. For his part, Finn stays in the baby carriage and doesn’t say anything until near the end of my conversation with Nick. 

“Good morning!” I say, when I get close enough. Might as well keep this friendly if at all possible. 

“Officer Toot Toot. Good morning to you!” Nick replies. He is referring to the sound I made when I thought Finnic was actually a child who wanted to be an elephant that first day. At least I know Nick remembers me. 

“Got a minute?” I ask. He stops walking and I pull over closer to the curb and stop, but I do not get out of the trike yet. This is the crucial moment. He will probably try to get rid of me and then-

“Sure. What do you need?” he asks, surprising me. 

“Well,” I flounder a bit, but then pull out one of the Otterton pictures I have. This is the one that I got from enlarging part of the file picture. I have a couple of other pictures in the folder. “Do you know this mammal?”

He does not take the picture from me, and only glances at it briefly, so I expect a negative response. “That’s Emit Otterton. Owns a flowershop on Main and he’s kind of an expert in the fields of botany and horticulture. I haven’t seen him around in a few weeks,” he says. Again, I am surprised. He knows a great deal more than I expected! 

Now I get out of the trike and take a moment to re-arrange my documents. I probably will not need the tax research stuff, but I will need one of the other pictures and I might still need the recorder pen. I show Nick the overhead sidewalk picture from the police file. 

“Is this your tail there on the right?”

He smirks at me, and asks “Do you like it?” He fluffs his tail when he says this. 

“I mean, is that you, there on the right?”

“Relax, Carrots, yes, that’s me. And that’s Mr. Otterton there on the left. I know everybody. This was a few weeks ago. I talked to him briefly and then we went our separate ways. As you can see, I had just sold him a pawpsickle,” he says. 

He called me Carrots again when he knows I do not like it, but I can not call him on it because he is being so helpful. “Do you know where he went?” I ask as I put the picture back in the folder and then the folder back in the trike. 

Instead of answering, he knocks on the baby carriage and waits for the hood to be pulled back. As I expected, it’s the other fox. He looks at me, rubs his eyes, and then looks at Nick. “Huh,” he says. “Working with the Fuzz? Well, you’re going to need this.” He sticks the Jr. Police Sticker that I gave him on Monday on Nick’s shirt. Then the smaller fox jumps down to the ground, and starts walking away with the baby carriage. “Keep him out of trouble, OK?” he says to me, but does not wait for an answer. 

Nick waits until the smaller fox is a far enough away to be out of the conversation, and then Nick says, “I know where the ottter went, but I don’t think it’s the kind of place that a cute bunny like you would be comfortable.” 

“Do not call me cute. Hop in the trike,” I tell him and then realize my mistake. 

“Hop in? Isn’t that my line?” he asks, getting in. He sounds like he’s looking forward to seeing how I handle whatever it is that he’s going to show me. 

“Where did the otter go?” I ask, and get in the trike as well. 

“I’d rather just show you. It’s not far… Take a right and then a left when I tell you.”

He gives directions and I drive. We stop soon after and I get out, looking around to see if I could figure out which building it is. Nothing looks promising, and then I notice that he has not gotten out yet. 

“So, which one is it? You better not be wasting my time,” I say. 

“Didn’t I tell you to relax earlier? It’s this one,” he says, pointing to the nearest building. It looks almost exactly like the others in this area, and seems to be only one story. It's wide rather than tall, like a warehouse. There are various decorations, but no windows on the ground floor. 

“Ever been here?” he asks. Then he gets out of the trike and goes over to the door. 

“No. Never here,” I say, as I follow him. 

“Well, then, you’re in for a treat. First timers get half off for free,” he says. 

“What sort of business is this?”

“You’ll see,” he says. We go inside and I have to assure the proprietor, a somewhat sleepy yak behind a desk near some very impressive looking doors, that I’m not selling bunny scout cookies. He recognizes the picture of Emit Otterton when I show him, but he tells me that the otter hasn’t been around in a few weeks. He offers to escort me to see Emit’s yoga teacher, and I accept. Behind me, I notice that Nick is holding his breath. Now what is he up to?

I find out when the yak steps away from the counter and starts opening the doors. “Oh my god! You are naked!” I blurt out and try not to look at his private parts. When I turn my head I find myself looking through the open doors at dozens of other naked mammals. 

“For sure,” the yak says and puts his paws on his hips. “We’re a naturalist club here. We don’t wear no clothes.”

“In Zootopia, anyone can be anything,” Nick says. “These guys? They be naked.” 

He watches my reaction a moment and then adds, “If you can’t handle this, you know there is no shame in admitting it.”

“Actually, I can and there is,” I say, steeling myself. 

We get the information I need, but it is the yak, not the elephant yoga instructor that gives it to us. The elephant does not remember anything, but the yak even remembers the license number of the limousine that picked up Mr. Otterton. 

“Thanks. You have been very helpful,” I tell him, still trying not to look at anything inappropriate. I can hear Nick trying not to laugh behind me. I lead the way out outside and then stop to think a bit. Nick follows and then waits.

“So, now you’ll run the plate?” he asks. 

“I can't. I am not in the system and this trike does not have the necessary equipment,” I say. Then I look at him a little more closely. “Earlier you said you knew everyone? Do you know someone that can run a plate?”

He cocks his head at me. “Actually, I do, and yes, I can and will ask him to help.”

So, we go to the DMV and get that help, but I find out exactly how slowly sloths move. I am very glad the chief didn't give me a time limit to solve the case! 

Nick and I have lunch, and then we have to split up because he says he has something important to do this afternoon. I am sure I can handle Tundratown Limo by myself.


	7. Investigation of a limo in Tundratown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bunny continues to do real police work, this time with fellow cops and not the fox

I wish Nick would have told me what it was he had to do! And I’m sure he had me drop him off by the University so he could take a bus to where ever he was actually going. Maybe I can get him to tell me later?

Well, OK. Time to think about the case instead. I have the address of the limo service, so that is where I am going next. It is only 2:30 PM, so they should be open for business. I do not have a warrant or a partner, or even a police cruiser, so I am glad that I have a very resourceful, and strangely interesting, citizen helping me. Until now, that is. 

Anyway, I find Tundratown Limo Service without much difficulty and park my trike in the covered visitor’s parking area so it will not be run over by these long black cars or buried beneath any fresh snowfall. It is not snowing at the moment, but the environment is cold and this is a busy place. 

There are dark limos all over the place; some are parked, some are coming, and some are going. I can see hurried drivers in their uniforms with caps, clean polar bears in suits, and dirty mechanics in coveralls walking around taking care of various things. I briefly consider just looking for the car I need, but dismiss this idea. I am a cop on official business, so they will help me. Why not? I head over to the reception desk and hop up on the convenient stool near the receptionist’s desk placed for mammals my size. I wish ZPD had those! I notice that the shrew receptionist is also doing dispatch work, and so I wait for her to see me. 

“Novell. Rain forest district. Arriving. Got it,” she says and then seems to notice me. “Oh, a cop. Right… We expected one of you guys last week or the week before.” Now she seems briefly confused, but shakes it off. “Which limo do you need?”

I give her the license number I got from the yak, and she gives me a location and a general direction. “It’s that way. If you get lost, ask one of the guys in coveralls, not the guys in suits. Suits don’t know nothing,” she says. “Doors are unlocked, windows are rolled back up to keep out the snow, and Kevin didn’t touch nothing he didn’t need to touch when he brought it back in. Regular driver’s name is Manchas, and he’s not here. Let us know if you have to tow it.”

I start to ask for more information, but she is already talking to someone on the radio again. “Thanks,” I say instead and head out to look for the limo. 

I know we will have to tow it as soon as I see the inside. I remind myself to document EVERYTHING, take plenty of pictures, make lots of notes, and draw plenty of diagrams. I see and collect polar bear fur on the floor in the driver’s compartment. There are clear signs of a struggle in the passenger area. Mr. Otterton’s wallet is on the floor, so I collect it. Something that looks like blood is near the driver’s partition window. Some dirt on the outside as if the car had gone off road at some point. That was probably recently because the other cars seem to get washed pretty regularly. No dents or scraps on the outside, but the roof seemed to have some scratch marks that might have been caused by a tree. 

I call it in and go over my notes while I wait for Delgato and Wolford to arrive in their cruiser; they have a tow truck following. A limo passes them going out as they're coming in, but they make no effort to get out of the way. This is official police business, but I think they could have been a little more polite about it. They park near the limo and don’t bother using the visitor’s lot. The tow truck parks in front of the limo, of course.

“This it?” Delgato asks. I nod and he takes a quick look inside, and then gestures to the tow truck guy to start hooking it up. I have met Delgato before. He is a predator, but also a good cop, and I wait for him to ask what I've seen. 

“I talked to the receptionist and she asked me to let her know if we need to take it." I am trying to be tactful and I really hope Precinct 1 cops do not just go around towing cars without warning the owners when they can. Our community relations instructors were very clear about how the public views this sort of behavior.

My concern must be obvious because Delgato says “Of course the receptionist wanted us to tell her. She knew we’d have to do it, but she wants to impress us with how helpful she was just in case something bad happens. Nobody wants anything splashing on them.”

“Oh, OK,” I reply. That is really good to know. Delgato must have done a great many of these and it is nice that he is sharing his experience with me. “I was sort of expecting a detective to take charge of this?” 

“Hopps, the case is not critical enough for those guys. This is just a missing persons case. Now we’ve got evidence of a struggle, so it might get kicked upstairs, but it might not. This is not the only crime in the city today, and it’s certainly not the most important one,” he tells me somewhat matter of factly. “We beat cops, or ‘uniforms’ as they call us, take care of this sort of thing.”

“Right. Thanks. There is so much they do not tell us at the academy,” I tell him, and notice that Wolford is looking at me and shaking his head. I do not get a chance to ask why. 

“Isn’t this your day off?” he says. 

“Well, yes, but Mrs. Otterton is depending on me to find her husband and I got this clue earlier today…”

“Don’t over tax yourself by caring too much, Hopps. We’ll catch the bad guys and try to put them in jail. It’s what we do,” Wolford says. “You really need to pace yourself.”

“She’s young, Wolf. Let her run around and try to make us old guys look slow and stupid. We’re used to it, right?” As he says this, they both have a good look around at the activity in the lot. None of the workers are obviously paying much attention to us, as far as I can tell, so I doubt they know much about the circumstances.

“Oh, you’re not stupid,” I reassure him. 

Now they both stop looking around and look at me. Delgato says “What?”

“She got you, Del! Hah!” Wolford says, elbowing him. 

He is embarrassed, but recovers fairly quickly. “No, she didn’t. I knew she was joking. So. Tell us how you found the car and what you saw when you got here?” 

I tell them everything and show them the wallet and polar bear fur I collected, and then the various pictures and diagrams. They don’t show much interest in anything but the pictures and the wallet, but I can see it impresses them, just like it impressed me. This is definitely the right car. They are as puzzled as I am about the scratch and apparent bite marks. The tow truck is leaving at this point, so we watch it briefly. 

“So, you met this fox your first day on the job and then you convinced the chief to give you a case. He gives you this one yesterday with almost no evidence, but you notice that the fox tail in the only picture is the tail that belongs to the fox you met previously, and then you convince him to help you?” The wolf asks. “Now we’re looking at a break in the case. Chief is certainly going to like this.”

“Yes sir!” I reply. “Protect and serve!” 

“What did I tell you about that?” Delgato asks. 

“Sorry,” I reply, but I am not. He does not seem to notice. 

“Now, you need to do the reports thing again. I know you know how to do that, so use our cruiser. Remember what I told you last time? Be concise. If you’re not sure about something, don’t put it in. If the chief has questions, he’ll have you in his office and you can fill in blanks verbally,” he reminds me. 

I remember. I guess this is one of those ‘real world’ things one of the instructors warned us about at the academy. ‘Your chief and fellow officers may not do everything by the book. Watch and learn,” they told us. 

I take care of the reports and go back to rejoin my fellow officers. Delgato is off talking to the receptionist, so I chat with Wolford until I get a text from Nick. 

“That your boyfriend?” he asks. “Tell him you deserve dinner and a night on the town.”

“Ummm. Not my boyfriend, exactly. So, what happens next?” I ask. Delgato rejoins us. 

“You go home. The tech guys will process the car. On Monday, Chief will tell you if you still have the case, or if he wants it in more experienced paws. I’ll suggest you keep it, if he asks,” Delgato says.

“Good job, by the way.” He hesitates like he is not sure what to say next. “Ummm. You’re the best bunny cop on the force.”

“Yes sir. And the only bunny on the force!”

I return to my trike and start back toward the station. As I am leaving, I hear a comment from Delgato. 

“I’m definitely going to tell the chief to let her keep it. My old bones are too tired for this sort of thing.” This time I can not reassure him. 

I turn in the trike and arrange to meet Nick in the park this evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the first ideas I had for a story after seeing the movie. The limo is a crime scene.... What would Judy have done if Raymond and Kevin had not interrupted them?


	8. Looking for a jaguar and talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fox and the bunny continue to gather clues

I meet Judy in the park as agreed, and she wastes no time filling me in on what she knows. 

“...There were signs of a struggle in the passenger compartment, but not much blood. That was only near the driver’s viewing window," she concludes. 

"OK... Let’s assume for the moment what the limo guys say is true" I say, thinking aloud. "The driver is home on sick leave and they have no idea what happened to Otterton. If he was attacked, how did the attacker get in the limo? It may have been Manchas, and he’s the most likely culprit right now because he was already in the car and he appears to have been injured, but if so, where is Otterton now? Manchas can’t be responsible for all the missing mammals and there was no blood in the passenger compartment. Maybe he kidnapped Otterton, but if he killed Otterton, he must have done it outside the car, and the body would have been hidden nearby unless Kevin was in on it. I doubt Kevin would get involved with either kidnapping, or killing, because I know Kevin's boss and because I would have heard about something like that from somebody by now. Anyway, the area is well traveled by both car and on foot and so someone would have seen something, probably during daylight if there's a body, by now. So maybe Manchas grabs Otterton and they fight in the back? But why? And where is the otter now?” 

"There is just so much we do not know."

"I'm beat, and so I'm going to call it a day," I tell Judy. "Catch you later, Carrots."

She waves and we go our separate ways. That is, I go back to the airfield and she goes to her apartment at the Grand Pangolin Arms. 

***************************************

Finn and I lounge around on Sunday. I vaguely wonder what a gung-ho bunny cop does on her day off? Jogging, of course, and I’d seen her do that once on the way home from an especially late night. Also…. She'll probably work the case somehow. Probably try to reach Mr. Manchas or check the area where Otterton disappeared. 

***************************************

The next day rolls around and I get another text from Judy. ‘Meet me at diner?’ I know which one she means because she had pointed it out to me previously. I leave the airfield after telling Finn where I’m going, and he briefly wants to come with me. He gives up when he realizes I’m meeting Judo Judy. 

“Hey, Nick, long time, no see,” she greets me after I arrive. It’s 10 AM and she already has a booth in the medium mammal section. She’s in her usual blue cop uniform, ears all the way up, drinking some sort of tea or juice, and facing toward the door. She’s not wearing the traffic vest or hat this time. I vaguely wonder what sort of uniform policy Bogo has because I’ve seen different cops wearing different things at different times. This is not at all like my Army days. The word "uniform" implies they're all the same, after all. 

I sit in the booth across from her and the waitress drops off some coffee for me. I don’t actually like coffee, but it’s what people drink in the morning. “You’re still on the case?” I ask Judy. 

“Still on the case,” she agrees. “Apparently Delgato put in a good word for me and Chief thinks I am doing pretty good so far. The detectives do not want the case and I do not have a partner yet, so the thinking seems to be to just let me keep doing what I have been doing.”

“Still got the trike?” I say, gesturing out the window at the distinctive vehicle. 

“Yeah,” she replies. Now her ears are back down slightly. “No bunny sized cruiser yet.”

“Any more leads? More than what we had on Saturday, that is?”

The waitress shows up and I order an omelet. Judy doesn’t order anything, but just drinks her juice. I’m pretty sure it’s carrot juice at this point. Never had any myself, but it smells vaguely of carrots, it’s sort of orange, and there’s a rabbit drinking it. So, probably carrot juice. 

“Just the limo driver, Mr. Manchas. I called his house yesterday, but there was no answer and no answering machine. I also checked out the area of the road where Tundratown Limo said their polar bear picked up the car, and I did not find anything useful. Some tire marks where it probably went off the road, but that was it. No marks or tracks to suggest where Mr. Otterton may have gone. But then, it has been three weeks and otter tracks are not as large as car tire tracks.”

“I plan to visit Mr. Manchas in my official capacity this morning. Want to come along?” she asks. Her ears are up and focused on me now. 

What do I want to do? She doesn’t really need my help anymore and I’m not a cop. She probably thinks of me as a stand in until she does get a partner. Then I’ll be replaced and I find that I’m not really happy about that. I eat more of my omelet while thinking about it. 

She sees me hesitate, and adds “I realize I have been imposing on you a great deal. All day Saturday, and now again today. You have been very helpful! I will understand if you have other things to do.”

She probably doesn’t think I do have anything else to do. After all, here I am at 10:30 AM on a Monday morning talking instead of working some job or other. Judy has probably never had any significant amount of time in her life in which she wasn’t in school or working. I’ve had several. 

“Do I have other things I could be doing? Yes, yes I do. Do I want to help you and Mrs. Otterton? Yes, yes I do. You know Mr. Manchas is a jaguar and they’re nocturnal, right?” 

“Like foxes, you mean?”

“Good point. You’ve called him already and I’m sure you’ve got his address as well?” 

She nods, so I continue, “You know, Finn and I were wondering what you do on you days off. You work the case. You’re very dedicated, you know? Exactly what I always thought a good cop was supposed to be.” Most of the cops I’ve met haven’t impressed me, but there is no point mentioning that. 

She blushes, but tries to hide it by lowering her ears. She says, “I wanted to be a cop since I was about seven years old. I told everyone during a Carrot Day play a couple of years later and then I had to stop someone from bullying some friends of mine afterwards. Just like a cop would.” 

“Well, this is your lunch break, I guess? The only really regular job I ever had was the Army, and that was many years ago, so I’m not sure how that sort of thing works.”

“Yes, this is lunch, or Code 7 as we call it. There is actually a code for everything.”

“Restroom breaks?”

“Yep. Code 7. You are supposed to do that during your meal break,” she says.

“Chief told me to write tickets when I’m not working the case, but now I am working the case. You are my confidential informant! On that note, you are about done with that omelet, so let's get going, OK?”

I finish eating, we pay separately, and then I ask “We’re taking the trike?”

She nods again, so I ask “Next time, can we just take my car?”

“You have a car?” Her ears are kind of splayed out. This must be the way she looks when she thinks I said something ridiculous. 

“No, but I could get one. I really don’t like that trike. How about we take the tram line? It’s Rainforest district, so I’m sure there is a stop near Mr. Manchas’ house.”

We take the bus to the trams and talk before it lets us off at Tajunga, near Vine, later in the day. 

“Your chief knows where you are, right?”

“Yes. There are various reports we fill out all the time and we actually discussed it this morning, briefly.” She’s facing forward with her ears all the way up, and I can see how this is the culmination of her dreams. She looks so confident. 

“Nick, what did you want to be when you grew up?” She asks, surprising me.

“What?”

“Growing up. What did you want to be? Not a con-mammal, I suspect. I am doing what I always wanted, so I have been wondering what happened to your dreams?”

“I wanted… different things at different times. When I was 8 or 9, I wanted to be a Junior Ranger Scout because I thought I could fit in better that way. Find my pack, you know? We’re different that way. You wanted to do something new, and I wanted to join something already in place. I figured I was supposed to do, or be, SOMETHING, and so all I had to do was find it.”

“Still looking?”

“Yeah. Ranger Scouts didn’t want me. Joined the Army because that’s what many predators, and some lower class prey, do instead of going to college. Four years of that. Got out, and did other things for a few years. Worked for Mr. Big until I accidently sold him a skunk butt rug and he found out. That’s why I was glad not to go with you to Tundratown Limo.” 

Judy is about to reply when we arrive at our destination. We get out of the tram, cross a few bridges, climb a path, and finally see the house across another bridge. The door is open and it looks dark inside. 

We cross the last bridge and then Judy announces herself “Officer Hopps, ZPD!” and goes in with her flashlight on and pointed. I can’t see anything else moving inside and I can't smell anything recent, so I look around outside very briefly and then follow her in, without an announcement. The house is a mess and several windows are open. I can’t tell if he’s been burglarized or what. We can see the phone is broken, there are large scratch marks on the floor, and various pieces of furniture appear to have been thrown around. 

We go back outside and Officer Hopps calls it in. Bunch of other cops arrive and I try to stay out of the way. Mostly, I want them to know I wasn’t in the house stealing the sofa while Judy is outside talking to them. They ignore me. They probably know what I am, but not what I’m doing here or why I’m still here. I know many informants, and they don’t usually hang around crime scenes when a bunch of cops are there. 

The cops tape up the scene, take a bunch of pictures, talk to some neighbors, and make various notes. I see Judy talking to several other cops. Mostly a wolf and a tiger, but she doesn’t introduce me. Eventually the other cops leave and Judy and I get back on the trolley for our trip back to the diner and her trike. This was a dead end and there are no further clues at the moment.

That means I have to make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in the movie, they get attacked by Mr. Manchas and that leads directly to several critical scenes including: Judy saving Nick's life (which I put in Chapter 2), Nick standing up for Judy (which I have changed somewhat because I didn't like how much it made Bogo look like a jerk), and Nick and Judy finding out about Cliffside together (here I have Nick find out using his street contacts). The Manchas thing in the movie just seemed way too much like a coincidence, so I tried to tone that down somewhat.


	9. Fox and bunny talking about life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Judy spend some time on Zootopia's public transportation. What better place to talk?

This had not turned into the normal kind of day since this fox started hanging around with that rabbit. Usually, we’ve got a lead and we’re chasing it down, like the way we found the limo and Judy found Mr. Otterton’s wallet. Now, we’re not chasing a known lead, but trying to find the trail again, after having lost it when Mr. Manchas disappeared. 

The other cops talked to some of the jaguar’s neighbors and then some of them talked to Officer Hopps, but apparently not many of them knew very much. Only Judy talked to me, of course. She was told that Manchas had probably been injured, but we knew that already from Tundratown Limo. There was some mention of Manchas being afraid of Otterton in particular, or possibly otters in general, but that seemed silly. Jaguars are far larger predators that otters, and land cats have claws while semi-aquatic weasels don’t. Their ancestors had diverse niches in the food chain, further apart than rabbits and foxes anyway, but now we all have various leftover traits like claws or sharp teeth that we really don’t need anymore. 

We’re riding along in the gondola once again when Judy brings up something that’s clearly been bothering her.

“Nick, what happened to you?” she asks. We’re standing in the car in the usual way. Just a bunny cop in blue and a fox wearing shirts, slacks, and a tie. We aren’t going very fast and this car is the right size for medium sized mammals like us. I’m on the right this time and she’s on my left as we face the direction of travel, looking forward so we don’t miss our stop. When she asks this, she turns fully toward to her right and tilts her head up to look me in the eye because she’s a foot shorter than me. 

I know what she’s getting at, but I don’t really want to talk about it. “Bunny cop asks me for help, and I couldn’t figure out how to say no. Now, here I am, enjoying public transportation on a nice day with a pretty female mammal,” I reply. I hope the compliment will distract her, at least a little. 

“Please do not dodge the question. I have seen you working and so I have seen your passion and the way you interact with other mammals. You are thirty-two. You could have been somebody by now. Could have gotten a degree or a trade, working your way up in a career, and started a family. Instead, here you are. Unemployed except for the con-mammal thing. You seem to get into trouble on a regular basis either by selling the wrong things to mobsters, conning beavers into buying defective wood, or interacting with criminals like those wolves. I know that encounter in the alley was not random. They were looking for you,“ she says. 

I can see she really does want an answer by the way her ears stand straight up and the intense look in her eyes, but I’m not really sure how to explain my situation. “First, I’d like to point out that unemployed is not the right word, based on what you said. The proper word might be underemployed. Second, working with Mr. Big was an attempt to start a career and get some stability. It didn’t work out the way I wanted and I did not intentionally sell him a skunk butt rug. Third, those beavers knew what they were buying. They aren’t stupid and redwood smells different than the birch that Finnic and I sold them. Fourth, being a con-mammal is not very different from being a salesman, and I believe salesmen are the workhorses of our society. Heck, many of them are actually horses!” I finish triumphantly. Now, I’m sure she’ll stop chasing this and- 

“Stop that, will you? I want to know because I care about you, OK?”

Dammit. “Carrots, we’re very different, you know that. I’m a fox. We don’t usually get degrees and become engineers, lawyers, doctors, or scientists like various prey mammals tend to do. You’re a bunny. You never wondered if you could go to college, and you could easily have been a doctor or a lawyer or whatever. Most predators end up doing what I did, which was join the Army. We don't have to, but many of us don't know what else to try. I eventually got out because I didn’t see a future there. Tried to get into a college, but most of them won’t take a predator like me with a background like mine. Predators tend to come from lower economic level neighborhoods with inferior schools, and we tend to have negative encounters with the police unless we run fast enough. That sort of thing doesn’t look very good when you’re filling out a college application form.”

“You’re saying I’ve been sheltered? Is that it? I’ve had it easy because I’m prey?” she asks. Now her ears are drooping a bit, and she opens the distance between us and turns slightly away from me. 

“Not easy, no, just….You haven’t done the things I’ve done, seen the things I’ve seen, and made the decisions I felt I had to make because of those things,” I said. I know that sounds corny, but she mostly lets me get away with it. Her ears go a little lopsided for a moment. 

“You are right, I never worried about going to college. I never got in trouble with the police. I never felt like the Army was my only way out. I could have been a doctor, lawyer, or engineer, but that is not what I wanted. I wanted to be the first bunny cop, so here I am. When I find Mr. Otterton, then the chief, and the other cops, will see that a bunny can do this. Just so you know, I could not have gotten this far without your help, so this is just me trying to help you in return.” She pauses and then continues after thinking a bit. 

“I am not saying you gave up or, if you did, that you did not have your reasons. I just want to understand why someone with your talents, passion, and drive is not… “ She trailed off, obviously unsure how to continue. 

“Isn’t a more respected member of the community?” I asked, smirking at her. 

“Something like that.”

“Well, I guess my current life situation started with that Jr. Ranger Scout thing. We didn’t have much money, but mom scraped together enough to buy me the uniform and off I went to my first meeting. I knew I was going to be only predator there, but what difference does it make, really? Can’t anyone in Zootopia be anything they want to be?” I'm careful not to look at her when I say this. I don’t want her to see my anger and lingering pain and think I blame her. 

“So, anyway, I go to the meeting and they put a muzzle on me because I’m a predator. I kept asking them what I did wrong, but of course, as far as they were concerned, I was simply born wrong. That was the first time I realized I could never really fit in. There were other incidents later, but that one sticks out in my mind. However, I did learn some things that evening. For example, I won’t ever have the approval of mammals like those, and I don't have to be like them. I’ve started trying to be better. Of course, I may have lost my way recently.” 

Judy puts her paw on my arm and I look at her now that I know my eyes no longer look angry. There are tears in her eyes and the kind of pity that I about half expected and entirely dreaded. However, I can see that she's not judging me and so I pat her paw with my other paw and then go back to looking ahead. 

“Preds can go to college, you know,” Judy says after thinking about it. 

“Well, yes, of course. Some of us. It’s just harder for many of us, like I said.”

“You talk like a mammal with an education,” she says. She’s got a familiar look on her face. It’s the same look that she had when we left the Oasis, so I know she’s assembling clues and deciding what to do next. 

“I read a great deal, and for the record, I have been to college. I was a janitor at Zoo U for a couple of months,” I elbow her slightly and smirk. 

“I can not really picture you as a janitor. Maybe it is that tie you are always wearing.”

“No, I was a janitor at Zoo U. This was after the Army and before Mr. Big. It was a night job and I figured I could look for something better during the day or go to classes or something. Something turned out to be that Saturday thing I have to do.”

“That Saturday thing you refuse to talk about,” she observes, now focused more fully on me again. 

I wait and she says, “And you are still refusing to talk about it.” She huffs and goes back to staring out the front of the gondola. 

We ride along in silence until I realize I do want to talk. I just don’t want to talk about the mammals I have to deal with on Saturdays. 

“Carrots?” I ask. 

“Hmmm?” she replies without turning her head. 

“Where is Bunnyborrow, anyway?” I ask, knowing the answer in a general way. “How does a mammal get from there to here?”

“It is in that general direction, about 240 miles,” she says, pointing south east. We can’t really see much of the horizon from our current location in the tree tops of the Rainforest District. We’re above the roadways, jam cams, and sprinklers, but we’re not high enough to be above the tops of some of the trees. “I took the train.”

Her arm, when pointing, passes very close to me and I get a very good look at the top of her head and her ears up close. I also get a very clear scent impression. She smells like… well, like an adult female bunny. No perfume or not much and very little of the scent block most of us wear to prevent old instincts from distracting us at inconvenient times. 

“Why do you ask? Thinking of moving?” she jokes and looks up at me again. Her eyes are violet, I suddenly realize. I’m not sure why I didn’t notice that before or why I thought they were purple. 

“I’m relatively happy in Zootopia, thanks anyway. It’s not perfect, but it’s home. Besides, could you image me, a fox, in Bunnyland? What would the neighbors say?” I’m trying to be funny, but her ears fall back and she turns away from me again. 

“Oh, Bunnyborrow has foxes. Not many, but there are some. The Greys, for example. They are not the same kind of fox as you or Finnic. The Greys are more like… bigger versions of your friend Finnic. You are all sleek and lean, and red and orange,” she says, turning away again. I notice two things about the way she says this. First, I think she admires the way I look, which is very gratifying. Second, she has some sort of unpleasant history with one or more of the Greys. 

She says nothing more and I consider letting the subject drop. Then I remember her earlier questions and the probable reasons for them. She thinks I can be better. Maybe I should be acting more like it. 

“You and the Greys have a history, I take it?” I ask. 

“You could say that,” she says, grimacing. “I went to school with Gideon Grey. He was always larger than my friends and I and so he could bully kids like us. One afternoon, after a school play during which I told everyone I wanted to be a cop and Gideon said some disparaging things, I caught him and his friend Travis stealing tickets from some of my friends. I told him to stop and we fought. I lost and he slashed me on the face. Told me to remember that day, and of course I did.” 

“Slashed?” I asked, not horrified, but amazed that she had had such an experience. I really had thought she was more sheltered than that. I looked at her face, but saw no evidence of damage. 

“Oh, the marks were not deep. Just enough to draw blood and prove which of us was the alpha predator. I got the tickets back while he was distracted and of course my parents found out and Gideon got in trouble. He mostly avoided me after that in school and we had another fight later. I saw very little of him after that, and I think he was actively trying to avoid me.”

“No wonder you don’t like foxes much,” I observed. I felt very slightly ashamed, not just because I had prejudged her and her ‘soft’ upbringing compared to mine, but also because she had personal reasons for not liking mammals like me. 

“You can tell how I feel about foxes? I really had hoped nobody would notice. Cops are supposed to be impartial, after all,” she says. “I am sure I have been perfectly correct toward every fox I have dealt with in an official capacity since I got here.”

“Umm. You remember what you said to me outside the elephant ice cream place? You said I was a ‘real articulate fellow,’ but at least you didn’t add ‘for a fox.’ Also, I suspect everybody that sees you can tell,” I say, motioning with my muzzle toward the red spray can on her belt. This is the fox repellent that I’ve seen her carry since the very first day and the real reason that I tried so hard to hustle her. Calling me ‘articulate’ was icing on that particular cake. 

Her hand went to her waist and touched the can. He ears went down and she first looked ashamed and then determined as she took the can off her belt and handed it to me. “My dad gave it to me the day I boarded the train for Zootopia. It was this or the fox tazer,” she said, grinning weakly. 

“Fox tazer?" I take the can and examine it more closely. I bounce it in my left hand, and then draw back to throw it out of the car. 

Judy stops me and for a moment I wonder if she changed her mind? Then she says “Nick! Do not litter! We can find a proper garbage receptacle after we get off this thing.”

“OK,” I agree, but I keep the can in my hand so I can get rid of it as soon as I see a place.

We can see the end of the line when Judy brings up something that she’s probably been thinking about since we started the ride this afternoon.

“Nick, what do you want to do with your life?”

“Eh? Be happy, I guess.”

“No, we were talking about the kind of careers that are open to foxes earlier and I was thinking that you would make a pretty good cop.”

This surprises me. Not because she thinks I can be a cop, which I thought was a great deal easier until I met Judy, but because it’s what she’s wanted to be her entire life and so she must hold that job very dear to her heart. Now, she thinks I have what it takes to do it, too. I am being honored, so I try to let her down easily. 

“Carrots, I can’t be a cop. Too small and a back ground check would be a problem. There are no foxes on the police force,” I say without thinking about it very much. Maybe I could? Then Judy puts my thoughts into words. 

“There were not any rabbits until last week, and you know I am smaller than you. I can get you a job application form….”

“I’ll have to think about it some more,” I tell her as we arrive at our stop. Judy heads back to her trike, probably intending to write some more traffic tickets. 

Now I have to decide how far I’m willing to go to help. I could ask some mammals I know and find out exactly what happened to Mr. Manchas. For that matter, I could find out where all those missing mammals are. The problem is that they might stop talking to me if they find out I’m just passing the information along to the cops and I’ve seen how zealous the cops are about names and addresses. The kind of people that know the things I need to know don’t like having cops know where to find them. 

I text Finn and ask him to meet me at Vinny’s. We have some things to discuss.

Now, where can I find a garbage can?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about posting the contents of this chapter separately like I did with "Judy and the Bears." That one could happen pretty much any time in the first couple of weeks before the press conference and this one could as well because they probably spend a very large amount of time on (or waiting for) buses or trams or trains. Lots of time to talk and relative privacy the way Zootopia has it arranged. I didn't post it separately because there are some things they talk about that are too closely related to other, later, story elements.


	10. The fox tells bunny about Cliffside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick knows everybody, so he finds out where the missing mammals are. Should he tell Judy or just go alone? If he's going alone, why is he doing it?

The next day, Tuesday, I went looking for Officer Hopps again. It’s mid-morning because I hate getting up early, so I can’t catch her exercising before work and I don’t want to wait and try to run into her at one of her bus stops on her way home. I could just wander around down town looking for traffic tickets and follow the trail, but I text her instead. She gives me her current street location and I head that way. 

“My taxes pay your salary!” I say when I see her, trying to disguise my voice. 

“Oh, hey Nick. How are you this morning?” Judy replies without turning around. Once again, I had forgotten how good her hearing is, even when the ears are apparently turned the other way. 

“Walk and talk?” I say as I come up next to her and we more less fall into step. She’s still looking for expired meters and I can see from her machine that she’s got nearly 70 already. That seems like a great many to me, but then, I can’t see myself issuing even one, especially when the car belongs to a giraffe because it's very hard to get the tickets on the windshields of those kinds of cars. I’ve seen her do that several times. And then there are the angry drivers to deal with... 

“I know where Mr. Otterton is,” I tell her as calmly as I can. 

“Nick, please do not joke about this,” she says, again without looking at me. Her ears, I notice, are not fully up, but are kind of limp. She doesn’t believe me. 

“Remember I told you I know everyone? Well, I do. I know a guy who knows a guy who was fired from a certain location recently. Apparently he was sleeping on the job or possibly they caught him with his paws in the medicine cabinet. Well, he’s not happy with his former employer, and was happy to tell me all about it in exchange for paying his drink tab.” 

“And you believed him?” 

“Yes. He recognized Mr. Otterton's picture. Told me how long the otter has been there and told me they brought in a jaguar in a chauffeur suit recently. Told me his chart says ‘Manchas.’”

“Nick! That’s great!” Now her ears are fully up and focused on me. “How is Otterton? Where is he?”

“He’s not himself. Physically fine, but mentally, he’s the kind of mammal that would tear up the inside of a limo the way you saw. Same with Manchas. The damage to his house was probably caused when he went crazy. There’s a doctor there and the staff are calling the condition ‘going savage,’ by the way. It’s outside of town.”

“We’ve got to tell Chief Bogo! Let’s cross the street here….”

“No, we can’t do that,” she looks at me oddly, so I clarify. “We can’t tell Bogo until we have more evidence. I won’t give you the name of the mammal that told me and I doubt the chief will believe me or you without talking to that mammal. In fact, I doubt he’ll believe him even after talking. He’s not the most reliable, or sober, individual you’ve ever met. And I can’t tell you where because you’ll just go tonight with no plan and probably get caught. I won't let you do that.”

“We can't just leave the missing mammals in there,” she says sounding very certain. Her ears are all the way up now, and she’s clearly thinking. 

“We won’t. I’ll put together a sneak and peek plan, get in there, gather some evidence, take some pictures, and come back out. I’ve done it many times. I'll give you what I have and then you show that evidence to the Chief.” 

We walk onward in silence. Then Judy asks a question I've been dreading. 

“How much time do you need?

“Couple of days. More likely a week if I want to do it right. I need to do some research on the place, memorize the floor plan, and figure out who I need to impersonate to get access. Probably some sort of government inspector. Then I need to become that person.”

“Impersonating a government employee is illegal! And a week is too long... would it help if I came with you?” she asks.

“More time is always better for this sort of thing, and no, it wouldn't help. If I get caught, they’ll probably put me in there with the other mammals. Same with you, but you’ll be fired from the police force for not showing up to work or you’ll be fired when Bogo finds out how they caught you. I don’t have a job, so I can’t be fired. If they lock me up, you can rescue me again by getting Bogo to come looking for me and search the place. He'll find me and he'll find the missing mammals,” I remind her, winking. 

She ignores this. “No, not fired, but you just said they could imprison you. Or you could be arrested for getting in there under false pretenses. So I have to ask you. Why are you doing this?” 

“Maybe I’m bored?” I tell her, still trying to keep the conversation light. Going in there actually terrifies me, but I feel like it has to be done and I feel like I'm the best one of the two of us to do it because I've done this sort of thing before. 

She goes from walking next to me to walking backward in front of me in less than a second, and then she stops. “Nick. Why Are You Doing This?” She asked slowly and distinctly. Ears all the way up and focused on me again.

I stop, but I can’t look at her now. “It’s the right thing to do, OK? Remember what I told you about trying to prove to myself that I’m better than those ranger scouts? This is how you do that,” I say to nobody in particular and start walking again by going around her. She rejoins me a few seconds later, but doesn’t say anything to try and make me feel better as I had about half expected. 

She is quiet for a few seconds again. 

“OK. But we can't wait a week,” she insists.

“Oh, yes we can. Many of those mammals have been in there that long already. We’re their only hope and I think we’ve agreed that I have to do it. Going sooner increases the odds that I’ll fail.”

“I do not like it,” she says, sounding and looking uncertain now. 

“Look, Carrots, it’s not our fault those mammals are in there. Besides, they’re getting three hots and a cot and almost the same care they would be getting somewhere else,” I say. She’s not meeting my eyes and her ears have gone a little more limp, so I think I’m convincing her. Then I make a mistake. “What’s the big deal?” 

Now she turns on me and we both stop. Her ears are all the way up and her eyes are furious. “The big deal," she says, mimicking my word choice and tone. "What the carrot cake has gotten into you?" 

"Promise me you won’t wait more than two days!” she says. “This is not some game where we sing a little song and everyone is fine. These are real mammals with real families worried about them. If you do not go in two days, you will tell me where it is and then you will LET ME GO!” She practically shouts this last part and waves that pen of hers, startling me, but then I get a good look at it. 

“Oh, that’s a recorder, isn’t it? Fine. Two days.” I grab the pen and say “for the record, I would rather have more time.” She takes the pen back, and I walk away again. This time she doesn’t chase me. I don’t turn to look back until I’m almost around the corner. I see her watching me, but then she turns away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super happy with some parts of this. I wanted to have somebody use the Bogo speech on somebody besides Judy, but then I had some trouble putting it in. Let me know if it seems too forced?


	11. A fox at work in Cliffside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time, Judy is not with Nick when he visits Cliffside. He gets some answers, but does he find out who's really pulling the strings?

Forty six hours later, I find myself in a rental car headed for Cliffside. I’m calling myself Mr. Fox now, but that was the best I could do with the list of names I have from the Department of Mammal Health because I wasn’t able to get pictures. I have altered my scent and appearance somewhat like I usually do during one of these things. It’s never a good idea to let these people see the ‘real’ Nickolas Wilde.

As my sedan makes the final turn, I get my second look at the place. I came here yesterday for a final check of my plans, but I didn’t get this close because I didn’t want them to see me. I had initially planned to sneak in using one of the delivery trucks and then sneak out by water, but I’m glad I discarded that idea. They park the trucks near the front entrance and there are wolf guards in that area nearly all the time. I had expected some sort of enclosed delivery area around back so the guests are less likely to be seen arriving, but there is really no reason for them to be concerned about that because there won’t be anyone around to do any seeing unless they’re hiding on the ridge nearby, and who would do that? Sneaking out by water is still possible, but not a good option this time. Also, I didn’t realize how dangerous that was until I saw the distance to the water on the downstream side. 

Cliffside is good name. There is a barrier with guards on the only road in and a bridge after that. Water surrounds the place and falls about forty feet on the east side. This is the northwest quadrant of Zootopia, not far outside Rainforest District. The place looks like some sort of castle, and I know from my research that it used to be a mental hospital. I had too little time to find out who owns the property now, but I know it’s got functional utilities and an on-site electrical power generation unit. There is a back entrance, but they’re not using it for some reason. 

I drive up to the barrier, stop the car, and roll down my window. There are two wolf guards. One of them inspects my forged paperwork, while the other stays in the guard hut with the telephone. They’re not armed, and their purpose is mostly to get rid of lost drivers and other mammals that don’t belong here. I could drive through the barrier with my car, but that would only alarm the other wolves across the bridge and closer to the building. If these two don’t buy my story, I can still escape by putting the car in reverse and hitting the gas. If the wolves are smart and don't buy my story, they'll let me in and then take me prisoner near the trucks. If they do that, Carrots and Finn will let Bogo know I was coming here, show him the location tracker information for my car, and convince him that the cops need to search this place looking for me. They'll find the missing mammals. 

“You’re not on the list,” the first one says. He’s not very excited, so I’m not in much danger right now. 

“Well, I just got the notice myself a few hours ago. That list is updated, what? Once a day? Something changes and they don’t tell you. Probably happened before.”

“Yeah. OK. We’ll still have to call it in,” he says. 

I was afraid of that. “Sure. Got to do your job. I’m in a hurry, but I understand. Your guests aren’t going anywhere, are they?” First, he looks annoyed that I’m asking him to hurry, and then briefly alarmed that I know about the secret they’re here to protect, and finally seems to adopt a kind of ‘not my problem’ attitude. He’s close and we’re both canines so he’s probably getting a very good scent impression of me, but the wind is blowing most of his scent away from me. I know I smell a little afraid, but not too much, and these wolves are probably used to that sort of thing from foxes and other mammals my size. 

“Fang, call it in. Tell them we’ve got a Mr. Fox from Mammal Health and he knows about the guests. Says he just found out today,” the guard nearest my car tells the other one in the little shack. I had hoped he'd just wave me through after I mentioned the guests. 

We wait and I review my notes until Fang gives an approval hand gesture and raises the barrier as the nearer one gets out of the way. I leave the window down, so I hear part of their conversation as Fang comes part of the way out of the shack to talk to the other one before I drive more than a few feet forward. 

“…said to just let him in.”

Dammit. I wish I had heard just a little more of that statement. They called somebody important and that person didn’t want to be bothered, so they decided to ignore the problem and just have the guards let me in. That must be what happened. 

I park near the delivery trucks and a small sports car near the front entrance. The small one is probably the honey badger doctor’s car. 

My informant didn’t know much about the doctor, but I was able to find out a few things from social media. Not much of it useful, but it was nice to put a face to the name and at least I know who I need to see and I know what kind of doctor he is. I roll up the window, get out of my car, grab my messenger bag, and make sure my pocket recording equipment is ready. I don’t need the bag, of course, but I’ve found that unknown visitors are normally better received if they show up with something like this. I’ve got a couple of recent articles in there about mental illness just in case I have to refer to something.

One of the wolves near this entrance escorts me inside and then I meet the doctor. We touch paws and I give him one of my fake business cards. I printed up five hundred of them yesterday. 

“So, you’re just Mr. Fox? Not a medical doctor? I was expecting someone else when I was told we had a visitor from Health.” The honey badger seems only mildly surprised, and is apparently entirely unconcerned that I’m a fox instead of some prey mammal or other. 

“No, my duties are mainly managerial and organizational. I work with doctors, but I aren’t one,” I grin at him in the approved way without showing teeth. He only nods at my weak joke. “We can’t all be veterinary experts like you, Dr. Bass.” The right level of ego stroking is always a good idea. 

I can see he’s a tired academic in a white coat who is used to dealing with animals that can’t talk or think for themselves, and I'm pretty sure he sees a bored beaurocrat who doesn’t care what he may be doing today, which is just what I want him to see. I’ve taken out my contacts and put on my glasses, tightened up my usually loose tie, tucked in my shirt, dyed my exposed fur a slightly different shade, and applied a blend of cologne I concocted some years ago. This sort of thing doesn’t fool anyone that knows me, but it does tend to at least throw off the mammals that don’t know me. They still see a fox, of course, but I try to make them see and smell a different one. 

“So, I’ve got a list of questions. Mainly for my colleagues, but some are mine. The idea here is that I don’t want to be too obvious about contacting you again and again, so I’ll try and get all the easy questions out of the way. The kind of questions I’ve heard before, you know?”

“OK,” he says, and starts toward his office on this floor. 

“Mind if we detour and see the mammals downstairs first?”

He shrugs, and agrees to give me the tour first. I’ve already noticed the smells, but then I start hearing the sounds more distinctly as we head down the stairs. The elevator isn't working. The floor with the mammals is isolated from the other floors and has its own climate controls.

The doctor and I stop to watch a little while when I first see the mammals. 

“Do you know what’s causing them to behave this way?” I ask, gesturing. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know, but I’d like to see how frustrated he is about it. If he’s not very frustrated, it would mean he doesn’t care about them as people and that means Judy really does need to hurry with the police raid. 

“No. I just have a bunch of theories, several crazy ideas, and nothing really concrete,” he says, sounding very frustrated. “The only things they seem to have in common are predator ancestors. Not all the same ones as you can see, of course.”

“I see you’re isolating them physically, but you’re not filtering the air?”

“No, no. We did initially, but it was too difficult and then containment failed when one of the guards propped a door open all night for some reason or other. Then… nothing happened. We waited a week and then another. Now, we’re just keeping them physically separated.” 

We stare at the cells in silence, and then start moving toward his office upstairs.

“Have you checked for parasites? Tapeworms can get into the brain and cause this kind of chronic condition.” 

“I thought about it, but we’ve done thorough physicals on all of them including full MRI. There are no brain parasites and nothing physically different about their brains as far as we can determine without physically examining those organs. That would kill the animal, of course, and we hope to rehabilitate them eventually”. 

The office is fairly large, and very cluttered. There is no secretary, and we pause in the doorway. “I tried to get one of the wolf guards to help out with administrative stuff, but he seemed so miserable that I finally felt sorry for him and let him go back outside and play with his friends. Mammal could just NOT type….”

“Food?”

“We’re controlling their diet now and they’re getting the same kind of food that any hospital resident gets. There are drugs that cause this kind of chronic symptoms, but they’re not getting those drugs from us and they’re still savage. We’re checking the stool samples of the recent arrivals and there is no common food being found in their stomachs or intestinal tracts. They’ve been eating what you would expect from city dwelling mammals. One early food possibility was the mendicampium hollisyfidus plant, the so called “night howler”, which is known to cause hallucinations, paranoia, inability to speak, and similar symptoms that look like these when ingested. Start of symptoms is quick and long lasting for large dose or high concentration exposure by ingestion or skin absorption.”

“Why did you dismiss the night howler?” 

“Like I said, no evidence of it in the stomach of any of them and we catch them pretty fast. If not ingestion, then how else could they be getting it? Skin contact could do it, in sufficient concentrations, but how are they being exposed? Is there some sort of predator only place where they take off their clothes and roll around in night howler leaves? We had a quiet look at the Oasis, and it’s not happening there! In any case, full body contact like that would leave a clear purple stain all over their fur, and the wolves have not reported seeing that during collection.” 

“Why only predators?” This is what I really want to know. 

“They must be doing something that prey don’t do or must have been exposed to some sort of pred only activity, food, or location. Not sure what that is. Preds and prey used to be separated by diet, but that’s not the case now. For example, you probably eat very similar to your prey neighbors,” he says. "Have a seat."

Now that we’re back in his office, he becomes more comfortable and starts to sound more confident. “One theory is sexual or blood contact with an infected, but asymptomatic, host, and the victim. This assumes we have a larger number of dormant hosts and many different species, of course, all over the city because we’ve been finding them all over the place. The hosts must be all different types of predators because we have all three size classes here: large, med, and small; and both genders. Note that we have had no reports of anyone being bitten by a savage predator, so it’s not being spread that way and we’ve got only two with sexually transmitted diseases and both of those are unique, so spreading by sexual contact is unlikely. Also, intercourse between different species is not very common because the signals tend to be different.” 

I'm not sure I agree with the signals comment, but there is no reason to interrupt him for that.

“There is a great deal we still don’t know. I’m the only doctor here, and I don’t have time to do everything. I need more field teams, in addition to the spotters, to go out and talk to mammals related to the victims and get some sense of what they have in common. All mammals in Zootopia share many common biological traits. Nearly all of us were quadrupeds, for example, and now we’re all bipeds. We were all born live, and nursed by our mothers or a surrogate.” 

“Do you think all predators are in danger of going this way? Devolving or developing multiple personalities or whatever this is? Have you been testing other predators?” I ask. 

“No, not all preds and, yes, we’ve tested some others quietly, but we don’t know the common link so we don’t really know what we’re looking for.” 

“How are you catching them? Are the police handling that?” This has been bothering me since I got here and saw the wolves and their van, so I hope he knows….

“Not the police, no. The mayor doesn’t want them involved. There are some people from his office out looking, but quietly, probably because he doesn’t want everyone to know that all the victims so far are predators. That's actually the main reason we haven’t gone public with this. The searchers call us when they see someone going savage and then we have the wolves collect the victim. I know they use some sort of rope gun and tranquilizers because the victims always arrive tied up and groggy. I tend to have to rush my tests before they wake up because I don’t like to tranq them multiple times. I don't know how much time passes between onset of symptoms and their arrival here, but I think it's very short.” 

“These people that are looking…. How well do you know them? Maybe one or more of these victims owed them money or there was some grudge? They want one or more of these people out of the way, and killing them is illegal, hard for civilized mammals to do, and too easy to notice, so they make the victims savage, and we hide the evidence for them. Have you considered that?” I hope this doesn’t make him defensive, but if he does, I’ll just remind him that my colleagues might ask me, so I need to know. 

Now he looks briefly alarmed, but calms down quickly. “I don’t know them, but I’m toxicology only, and I don’t handle the collection side of this. We have no police on staff, so we haven't considered any sort of crime being committed. Surely you aren’t suggesting that someone is doing this and then calling us to pick up their victims? That’s insane. Who would do such a thing?” 

Then he pauses and thinks about it some more. “It’s possible, I guess. Maybe someone has a dart board or whatever and they’re ordering “hits” on mammals. “cheetah in sahara square” kind of thing and then some guy with some sort of "savage" gun or whatever goes out and shoots a cheetah. But that’s ridiculous, right?” He doesn’t look certain, however. 

We discuss some more, and I go back over some of the questions until I get what I need and he has to go back to work. I take my leave and promise to do all I can. He calls one of the guards to escort me back to my car outside, and I drive away without further incident. I need to get this to Judy, and I hope my recording equipment got everything!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if this is too long... I researched and I tried to think of every possibility for what Nick and the doctor would discuss. The first one was even longer and I thought I was going to put Chapter 12 stuff in here too! I did want to be sure I mentioned Nick in disguise, the night howlers, and the "dart board" theory because someone would have thought of that, right? I mean, that's what I thought of when I saw the poster in Bogo's office. I needed the night howlers here because I changed the Mr. Manchas scene and I'd like to keep the scenes with Nick and Judy under the bridge, and Judy selling vegetables, as close as possible to the originals.


	12. Wilde, Hopps, Finn, Bogo, and Lionheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These are the events immediately before and after the raid on Cliffside. In my version, it goes slightly different.

Nick Wilde arrives after lunch, as planned, in the rental car Finn dropped off here this morning. We both saw Nick drive away and I wished him luck. He seemed more nervous than expected, and now he looks relieved and tired.

“Looking good, slick!” I tell Nick when he gets close enough and Fenn and I see him roll down his driver’s side window. 

For his part, Finn just motions Nick out of the car. Nick gets out and Fenn jumps into the driver’s seat, closes the door, adjusts the mirrors, and then drives away. 

“Thanks Finn!” I shout after him and I see his hand come out the window briefly. I am not sure why he was only waving with one finger, but I suppose I could ask him the next time I see him. 

I had been making plans to do my own infiltration after dark tonight because I was not sure Nick would make it out, but I probably should not mention that. “Hey. You do look, and smell, different than when I first met you last week. How do I know it’s you?”

“Very funny, bunny,” he says. “I look and smell the same as I did when you saw me here this morning. Don’t tell me you forgot already?” He does look different. His fur is a slightly different shade and his tie is tighter than usual. I expect he was probably also wearing his glasses while at Cliffside because he seems to be somewhat nearsighted at the moment, but he’s more sensitive about that than I expected so I don’t mention it. He probably took off the glasses as soon as he saw Finn's van. 

“Finn saved you some of the fish he was eating earlier.”

“Thanks! I’ve got good and bad news. First, the good news. Chief Bogo isn’t involved-“

“Obviously.” 

“But Mayor Lionheart is,” he says. Then he starts in on the fish, acting like he has not had a decent meal in weeks. I can not help but be fascinated with the way he eats it. His teeth are so long and sharp! Even the little predators like foxes can be very dangerous if they want to be. 

“Wait… Lionheart? Now we have really got to tell the chief immediately!”

“Ok, but there are a few things other things you need to know,” he says, in between bites. 

“Is it on the recording?”

“Yes, but-“

“Then I will just see it when I play it back at the station.” 

“Guess you’re in a hurry? Fine, but I need to borrow your pen.” He stops eating for a moment, takes my pen, and starts making some notes on a document he pulled out of his messenger bag. Then he opens up his recording equipment and hands me the data chip. He stuffs the document he was working on in one of my pockets. I am pretty sure it is a map.

“Somebody high up must be paying for all this stuff. The building, the guards, the doctor, all that ain’t cheap, you know,” he says. “There’s the recording.” 

“Thanks,” I tell him, putting the chip in another pocket. “You did a good thing.” 

“Ah, shucks, Carrots. You’re gonna to make me blush!” He says this with his usual good humor, but I can see he doesn’t want to talk about it, so I just pat him on the back and let him eat his lunch. He stops eating and looks like he wants to say something else about the map, but then he just shrugs, and goes back to his meal. 

“Want to come with me when I turn it in?”

“Now why would I do that? This is cop business and, as far as your chief knows, you got this information anonymously from some good citizen who does NOT want to be arrested for impersonating a government employee,” he reminds me. 

“That is a good point.”

I take the bus back to ZPD. On the way, I realize the map Nick gave me was actually a completed application form! My heart swells with pride and I can not wait to tell him how happy this makes me, but first, I go looking for a computer to play the recording. Nick put it on a flash drive, so viewing it should not be too hard. I see Wolford at his desk, so I walk over and knock on his partition wall the way I have seen others do. 

“What’s up, bunny?” He asks. 

“I need a favor. I still do not have a desk or computer, and I have this… evidence… that I need to have a look at before showing it to the chief.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pause. Evidence. Pause? Just what sort of thing are we talking about here? This have something to do with that fox you were hanging around with at that burglary scene the other day?”

“Yes. His name is Nickolas Wilde, by the way. He is very helpful.”

“I’m sure,” he says, but doesn’t sound like it. “Hand it over.”

I give him the chip and he puts it in the relevant slot on his CPU and clicks on the relevant icon. 

“Sound and picture quality aren’t all that great,” he remarks a minute or two later. 

I have to agree. Nick clearly started recording outside because we hear what I can only assume are the noises from Nick’s shirt and see the outside of the building from about his waist level. The pickups were clearly in his clothes somewhere and we're catching about half the words and guessing at the other half. 

"What was that? Something about a theory?" Wolford asks, but I can only shrug. I can hear better, but in this case, that just means I can hear the static and the sounds of Nick's clothes more clearly.

The first thing we saw was fairly clear and then we got a pretty good look at the doctor, but then the view shifts and we stop seeing anything but steps, floor, steps, and a desk. We listen to the whole thing. At the end, we get a very clear recording of Nick’s car's steering wheel and his voice, but he does not show his face. “Well, that’s it. I hope it helps. You know what to do now, Officer Hopps.”

Wolford looks at me oddly at this last part, but I only shrug again. I can not say how glad I am that he did not say ‘Carrots’ instead. That would have been somewhat embarrassing. 

“Yep, gotta take it to the chief,” the wolf says. 

The chief listens while I sit in the chair and Wolford leans on the door frame. The buffalo makes a few notes and does not comment on the sound quality. I expect he has heard this sort of thing before. 

“Well, that was impressive. I was going to ask how well you know this informant of yours, but I think the tone of that last statement told all I needed to know about that. You both know he can’t go around impersonating a government employee?” He asks. 

“Yes, chief. We knew that, but we did not think you would believe us if we just showed up saying we were sure the missing mammals were hidden in Cliffside. Nick thought you would want proof and he did not want to reveal his own source.”

“Some shifty fox or other underworld character, I assume?”

This is making me uncomfortable, but I am committed now, so I have to see it through. “He would not tell me. I think he thought what I did not know would not hurt me if I chose not to say it.”

I can hear Wolford shift behind me, but my main focus is on the chief. He twitches an ear, but that seems to be his only reaction. 

“Right. OK, you two wait outside while I make some calls. No listening in, Hopps!”

“Yes sir,” Wolford says, and I nod. 

We leave the buffalo’s office, close the door, and then the wolf stands by the door and looks at me across the hallway. He winks. “Good job,” he says, very low, and I smile. Thanks Nick. 

About ten minutes later, we hear the chief bellow for us to “Get in here,” so we do. A raid is organized and a short time later in the day, I find myself escorting a honey badger out of the Cliffside facility after reading him his rights. The mammal says were little and seems to be invoking his right to not speak, but this is definitely Dr. Bass from the recording. I would like to ask him for clarification of some of things I heard, but now is not the time and I am sure I can just get anything I need from Nick later. 

There was no resistance when we arrived. The Chief showed the wolf guards the warrant and they raised the barrier without comment. Wolford took them into custody before they could call ahead, but I am sure the other wolves across the bridge saw and reported everything. They also surrendered without a fight and we were easily able to get in and see the imprisoned mammals that Nick must have seen earlier today.

“Good job, Hopps,” the Chief says after I put Dr. Bass in the back of a patrol car. 

“Thank you, chief!” 

“Hmmm. Yeah, you really are that enthusiastic, aren’t you? I didn’t believe it at first. Most every new cop says the right things, but… Anyway. Tell your boyfriend he won’t be charged for his part in this, but remind him he can’t do this again.”

“He is not actually my boyfriend,” I say. I can feel my ears turning red. If the chief notices, he makes no comment about it. 

“Whatever,” he says and does that thing that looks kind of like a smile or possibly just a less angry grimace. “There will be a press conference tomorrow, Friday, and I’d like you to take some questions. We need to show everyone that we have nothing to hide and that means the reporters talk to the officer that cracked the case. Mr. Wilde going to be there?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Fine, but we'll keep him away from the reporters if possible. I don’t want him taking questions because his part wasn’t exactly legal. We’ll admit his part in it, and his pardon, if we HAVE to, but I’d rather not muddy the waters further. We really do not want to show anyone that video of his!” Then he mutters, “Department of Health would lose their minds and we have quite enough savage mammals running around.”

If they are going to go savage, I think it is a great idea not to tell them. I do not say this, and only nod to the chief to show him I agree. 

Mayor Lionheart comes in for questioning soon after we get back. He says nothing to me when he arrives at ZPD, but he acts like this is just another visit to his friendly constituents or the "mammals in blue" as he sometimes call us. He must know this is not just a routine visit, and I hope he understands why we have to arrest him and can not let him go back to his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think. I tried to be as "real world" as I could without deviating too much from the movie. I liked the part about the wolves howling and Nick and Judy sneaking in that way, but I just couldn't figure out how that would actually work.


	13. Judy Hopps and the Inquisitive Reporters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy and Nick cracked the case and rescued the mammals. Now, all Judy has to do is talk to the press about it. Should be easy, right?

“Oh, I am so nervous!” I say to the Assistant, and probably very soon full, Mayor of Zootopia, Dawn Bellweather. 

Dawn is a good friend and we’ve chatted several times. I first met her, and Mayor Lionheart, at my graduation when the Mayor pinned on my badge, and Dawn said it was a proud moment for us little guys. She is a lamb and Lionheart is a lion. After I arrived in Zootopia two weeks ago, I heard a rumor that Chief Bogo didn’t want me in Precinct 1 and someone in the Mayor’s office had pulled some strings to get me assigned. I initially thought that someone was Lionheart, but now I think it was probably Bellweather. 

“Judy. Don’t worry so much! You’ll be fine,” she says. 

We are both watching the various reporters gathering around as they wait for Chief Bogo’s remarks on the status of the missing mammals case. A case that I cracked, with Nick’s help. Where is he, anyway? He said he planned to be here around 8AM or possibly 8:30. He said he had something to tell me about the case and I am sure he could give me some good advice about this sort of thing. He is always so sure of himself and seems to know pretty much everything, which I guess is not unusual for a con-mammal. I am sure he could be the finest police mammal in ZPD if he wanted to be!

I wonder if he is mad at me about the two-day thing? I guess I was harsh with him, but I… No. I need to apologize to him for that. But first, I need to get through this. 

“I do not have a clue what they are going to ask,” I tell the lamb as the chief starts speaking. "We did not have classes at the academy related to talking to reporters. Mostly we were expected to act like we had no idea what was going on, and it was usually true." 

“Well, put yourself in their shoes. What would you ask the bunny that found all those missing predators? How did you do it, are they Ok, etc, etc. Tell them about yourself, but try not to look like you’re bragging too much. The main thing I want you to remember is not to say anything cruel about the predators we found. It’s not their fault that they’re savage, and we don’t want their families to suffer any more than they already are,” she replies. I almost feel like she had anticipated this question and her answer came out sounding rehearsed. Well, that makes sense. She probably put herself in my shoes earlier today. 

“I did not find them alone, you know. I had help from a fox named Nick Wilde,” I tell her and look at my watch again. Where is Nick? I could not convince the Chief to delay the press conference.

“Eh, might not want to mention that because foxes aren’t very popular right now. Also, how much do you know about him? What if the reporters ask you where he is or where he’s from or whatever and you don’t know? It’s never a good idea to bring up something you’re not prepared to discuss fully. That’s something I learned early on in politics! Your opponents will do almost anything to make you look bad, so you have to be ready all the time,” she says. 

Bogo is still speaking, but I know I will have to speak very soon. How am I going to remember all that? 

“And now, I would like to introduce you to the officer that cracked the case, our newest recruit, Officer Judy Hopps,” Chief Bogo says, gesturing at me. 

“Good luck,” the lamb says.

I walk over to the podium, jump up on the stool, adjust the microphone, and start taking questions. There are far more lights than I expected and I was seldom the center of this much attention at home or school unless I did something wrong. There is a pause at one point and I think that might be a good thing because it might mean they are paying attention, but I am not sure. The rest of it goes by fast.

Bogo interrupts me as I am trying to explain the difference between predators and prey. “No more questions,” and we walk off the stage. I do not understand why the reporters would ask questions like those, and I am a little disappointed that no one asked about Nick’s involvement. 

“How did I do?” I ask Dawn.

“You did just a super job,” she says, happily. 

The chief is less enthusiastic, and says very little. “It could have been worse,” is his only comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite scene. You can probably tell because it's shorter! I wasn't sure how to best write a scene about a major protagonist character flaw, so I figured I'd just gloss over the actual words here and then write the reactions of the other characters. Dawn, for example, thinks it's great, and Nick doesn't when it's his turn. This scene would be easy with an antagonist because the reader would naturally expect bigotry and intolerance.


	14. Fox and Bunny have a Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is immediately after the press conference. In my version, Nick misses it, and now he and Judy have what should have been just a minor argument.

The day started off fairly well, except that I had to get up WAY too early to catch the train, and then I ended up in one transportation mishap after another and didn’t get to meet Judy until after the press conference was already over and then I didn’t hear what she said until later in the day. 

I arrive at ZPD around 10 AM and tell the somewhat fluffy cheetah at the front desk that I need to see Officer Hopps. I gave her the application form after much soul searching, but now I’m not really sure about my decision. It’s a big step and a very difficult one for me. 

“Oh, you’re that fox we’ve all heard about!” he says. He picks up a donut, shoves it in his mouth, chews, swallows, and activates the intercom. “Officer Hopps. You have a visitor at the front desk.”

“Be right there,” I hear Judy’s voice reply. The cat looks at me and I look at him. 

“So. Ummm. You like being a cop?” I ask when I notice the cheetah continues to stare at me. I wonder what he wants? 

“Oh, yes, it’s great! I get to work with mammals like the Chief and Officer Hopps. Hear their stories… Speaking of... What can you tell me about your adventures with our bunny?” 

“Well, we visited the Oasis Club recently and it was Judy's first time there, so-” 

She arrives at that moment and I greet her with “Hi, Carrots! How’d it go?” I pretend not to notice the extremely disappointed look on the cheetah’s face when I don’t finish my story, but he might be able to get it from Judy later if… Nah, that’ll never happen! 

Judy’s ears are up and she’s bouncing with happiness and excitement. “Great! These things are much easier than I thought. Assistant Mayor Bellweather said I did a super job, but I do not really remember everything I said. I thought about telling them how much you helped me, but I was not sure how much attention you wanted. I mean, you were not here, you know? I was worried that you were keeping a low profile on purpose,” she says. Then she hesitates.

What does that mean? “Carrots, I don’t mind mammals talking about me on TV. Do I like to be on TV? No, no I do not. Have I done things in the past that I’m not proud of? Yes, yes I have, but that doesn’t mean I’m hiding my face from the public because I’m a wanted mammal. I’m here at ZPD headquarters and you've got my application form.” 

“Well, there is that tax thing,” she says. “And the way you got the information about Cliffside was not exactly legal. Not that it matters! Chief says you will not be charged and you can still get a spot at the academy.”

I could feel myself getting defensive. “Didn't we discuss this already? That wasn't even me. And what you mean, 'won't be charged'? I'm not even a cop yet and I risked my hide for you guys!”

“Calm down. I understand,” she says, but she doesn’t look like it. She’s looking around at the other officers as if seeking their help and she puts a little more space between us. 

“Officer Hopps. There’s a call for you,” the cheetah says, interrupting us. 

“Nick, we will talk later, OK? Text me.”

“OK,” I say, but it isn’t. This is what our friendship has come to? Is she upset with me because I wasn’t here to take questions at the press conference? I got the evidence and I filled out the application. What else do I have to do to prove myself? Why AM I trying so hard to impress this bunny I only just met last week? 

I leave the police station and try not to think about that application. Probably should have asked for it back, that would have been petty and stupid, I know, but I am having second thoughts. 

I hear the press conference on the news on the way home. My first reaction is shock. How could she say those things? “Predators may be biologically predisposed to going savage?” Didn’t she listen to the recording from Cliffside? I thought Bass was pretty clear about how alike modern predators and prey are. Prey are just as likely to go savage because we're all mammals and very alike that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is me trying to set up an explanation for Nick not talking to Judy, other than some half hearted attempts you'll see later, until she finds him under the bridge. Also, I added the application form because Judy needed to have it before the bridge.


	15. The bunny gives up her dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are riots in some parts of the city. Hopps blames herself and doesn't recognize how much good she's doing.

Another depressing morning briefing to start the day. Another attack reported. That makes twenty-six. Another week has passed and we still do not know why those predators are savage.

Mammals are openly saying it is my fault, or they just refer to my press conference as the beginning. I have stopped watching the news because I do not know how much more I can take.

Chief put two of us here in Tundratown today to 'give the uniforms a good airing' as he put it, and I hope I am doing some good. I still do not have a cruiser, so I have to more or less pick a spot and stand around. Wolford is nearby and he will pick me up if I have to get somewhere in a hurry. Chief wants us to spread out in areas like this so more mammals see more uniforms. We have our radios if things start getting out of hand where we are. 

That has not been a problem for me. One good thing, maybe the only good thing, to come out of that press conference is that mammals trust me more than they did. Prey come up to me and ask for re-assurance, which I give them. Predators sometimes look at me and I can see them thinking about talking to me, and many times they do. Sometimes I can even get them to talk to me in the presence of prey mammals and then possible talk to the prey mammals and thus kill two birds with one stone. Maybe I should stop using that phrase? It seems far too violent right now. 

Reassurance is so tiring, however, like I am giving them some of my confidence, but who gives me confidence? I wish Nick was here. Or even that he would reply to one of my messages.

“10-15 or possible 10-34 in progress,” the radio says with Clawhauser’s voice. 

“What happened?” one of the citizens standing nearby asks. He is a rabbit and they are usually more re-assured by me than any other prey mammal, and so I have been able to get him to calm down around a nearby wolf. They are not talking to each other yet, unfortunately, but given some more time I think that could happen as well. 

“Oh, it is not a huge thing. You heard the ‘in progress’ part and how they used two codes? That means it could be nothing,” I told him. 

“I’ve heard those codes before recently. Doesn’t one of them mean riot?” the wolf says. 

The bunny citizen looked alarmed, but at least he did not immediately look at the wolf and run the other way. Instead, he says, “Not another one!” The wolf nods, clearly very unhappy. I have to go.

“All units, this is 10-18. All units not 10-6, move to Sahara Square,” the radio says again. 

The cruiser arrives and Wolford motions to me from the driver’s seat. “Hop in!” he orders and does not even grin at the joke, if joke it was. 

“Got to go,” I tell the citizens, get in the cruiser, and leave them standing there looking uncertain. A wolf and a bunny in the street, and me with a wolf in a cruiser. We have all got far more in common than not, but so many seem to be unaware of this. 

“How’s your area?” Wolford asks. He is nervous and does not look at me while he is driving. 

“No problems. I have seen some citizens talking to each other,” I tell him, and he nods, knowing what I mean. Prey and predator talking to each other, that is.

“Miracle, that’s what it is. I can’t even get predators to talk to ME half the time. It’s even worse with the prey! They think I’m going to go savage or something any moment,” Wolford says. 

“You will not, will you?” I ask him, trying to joke. He looks very startled, so I add “Just joking, you know.”

“Eh. Please don’t right now, OK?” he asks me. “It’s very hard for the rest of us to tell when you’re being serious. Because you’re almost always serious.” 

We arrive at Sahara Square and the riot, or 10-34. I see less than a dozen predators, some with signs, and some without, and scores of prey surrounding them. Nobody is violent yet, but things could easily escalate. The prey are shouting and chanting and some of the predators are shouting back. Both sides are crowding together, but the ZPD has been able to keep them apart so far. 

“Go in together?” Wolford asks me. 

How the celery do I know? “Yes. My presence tends to calm prey and you can help me if I have to carry someone who faints or whatever.” Wolves are bigger than bunnies, and I have had to call for assistance many times when a sheep or a deer, who are also far larger than me, have fainted or otherwise been immobilized when I am around. Having a wolf, or someone larger, would certainly be a big help. At times like these, I more fully understand why the chief was initially reluctant to put me on the streets. 

Wolford looks at me sideways, but nods. I briefly wonder if I should have told him that was also a joke? I am too small to carry anyone that might not be able to get away from danger, and at first I think it was the wrong thing to say as I hear his heart rate spike. Then the heart rate goes back down and I can actually hear him subvocalizing “She’s not scared at all. Wolf up, dude!” 

Wolford and I nod to the other officers already on the scene and they spread out a bit to give us some room. In situations like this, we usually just try and keep the two lines apart. If one group starts throwing things, we will try and move them back out of range. Right now, we just form a kind of blue dividing line between the two groups. When we practiced this sort of thing at the academy, they usually put us in riot gear, but warned us that protective gear like that tends to cause mammals to act more mob like in a kind of self fulfilling prophecy if we chose to show up to every riot wearing the gear. 

Again, my presence has a calming effect in the immediate area, more or less in a circle for all the mammals that can see me. I am not very big, so not many can see me. Some prey look angrier than others, but they all listen when I tell them to calm down and stop pushing. Many even stop waving their signs in the air and actually look at me instead of looking past me at the predators. As for me, I cannot look before and behind me at the same time, but I hear the predators behind me step back as soon as the prey in front of me back off and start calming down. The predators are more afraid than angry, but the prey seem to be more angry than afraid. If the prey get angry enough, they could rush us and there is no way the half dozen or so cops on hand could possibly stop them from… whatever they chose to do next. 

Some of the prey near my area seem to be getting more animated and I see something through the legs of the pig in front of me, so I catch Wolford’s eye and motion with my head. “Something happening over there! I am going to have a look,” I tell him as calmly as possible. He nods and I walk forward quickly. “Excuse me,” I tell the pig, and he moves out of the way. 

Then I see what is going on. There is a tigress on the ground and there are four or five bunnies methodically kicking her. She is not fighting back. The nearest bunny, a young male, looks at me and says, “Hopps. Glad it’s you. We’ll be done in a minute and then you can take this chomper to jail.”

My vision goes red and Delgato arrives just in time to stop me from murdering that dumb buck. The tigress gets medical aid and the bunnies that are not fast enough to escape get cuffed and stuffed in a couple of cruisers. I hear someone shout “The cops are arresting us and violating our civil rights!” I do not know who said it, but I yell back, “This is Officer Judy Hopps. We are arresting several bunnies for assault on a tigress! They had her down on the ground and were kicking her! Do not do that!”

There is a calm after this, and the crowd breaks up a little while later. Delgato takes me back to the station so I can make my report and then we can clock out, but I know I will have to report back in a few hours. We are working 12 hours on and 12 off in theory, or more like 20 hours on and 4 off in reality. I know I am not getting enough sleep, but I need to do all I can to fix this. 

The next day, there is another depressing morning briefing, and then another riot, and then another briefing and riot the day after and the day after. At some point, I started sleeping and someone else was moving my body around. 

One day, I do not remember when, I ran into Nick on the way home. He seemed to have been waiting for me at my bus stop, and he clearly wanted to talk, but I was too tired and brushed him off because my bus arrived just then. “Talk later, OK?” I assured him. I do not remember if he replied.

I was stunned when I found out that Mayor Bellweather wanted me to be the new face of the ZPD. They should be punishing me for breaking the city into two fighting factions, predator and prey, but instead they're rewarding me. I cannot go through with it. “With all due respect, I don’t deserve this badge.” I hear someone say in my voice. “Thank you for the opportunity.” 

I woke up in Bunnyborrow. I had resigned and left Zootopia, and then came home and slept for... I don't know how long. 

One Sunday, I am out selling vegetables with my parents again, when Gideon Grey arrives for his pie delivery. We talk and he says "My family just calls them night howlers," after my dad tells some of my siblings to stay out of the mindicampium holisyphius. 

"Your uncle ate one whole and just about went savage," mom says. 

“A bunny can go savage?” I wonder aloud. I think the doctor at Cliffside had said something about toxic flowers and he might have said 'night howlers', but I did not think much of it at the time because he seemed to be more concerned that all the savage mammals were predators. I meant to ask Nick about the flowers and why the sound quality was so bad, but I never did get the chance. 

Now I know what I have to do!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of rushed the end there. I really wanted to get past that scene in the Mayor's office!


	16. Disappointed fox avoids the tired bunny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick, upset about the press conference, avoids Judy until making one last effort to talk to her.

I mostly avoid the rabbit in the days and weeks after the press conference. Her words had hurt and I didn’t like to admit that. I told myself it was the same old species-ism that I’d been hearing my entire life. Predators are bad because we have sharp teeth, our ancestors used to eat their ancestors, etc etc. Prey are superior because… well, they just are or whatever. Because they suffered under the constant fear of being eaten. Or they're meek? I don't know. Something. 

I guess I expected better from her because she knew me and I thought she understood. But why should I have thought that way? She came from a good family and went to a good school surrounded by other good prey mammals that thought the way she does. Maybe she had some less bad predator classmates, but not many, and of course they were all more like prey than predator. When in Rome and all that. 

I often thought about talking to her. To get closure, maybe, or to try again to get her to understand… what? What would I even say? 

I do know where I can find her. That part was relatively easy. I knew both where she lived and worked by now, but both of those were not good places to meet. She hadn’t told me where she lived, so I couldn’t very well show up there and expect anything like a warm reception. She works at ZPD, and foxes like me grow up knowing to avoid anything having to do with PD. That left the park where she worked out nearly every day and that’s where I am this morning. Standing by a different tree this time so as to not establish a pattern that she might think about later and decide to investigate. Not moving much or only very slowly. Not hiding behind the tree so much as blending my outline into it and definitely not "sky lighting" myself or wearing something reflective she might see. Not wearing my usual loud shirt and tie, but something more neutral. 

Her exercises seem less vigorous now than in the past. She’s probably very tired after yesterday's riot. I heard that a couple of mammals went to jail and a predator was injured. There was a picture in the paper, and the rabbit in the background could easily have been Officer Hopps. If so, then she was very angry that day! 

Today she finishes her exercises sooner than in the past, takes a break, and leaves the park far sooner than usual. I don’t follow, of course, even though she’s more walking than jogging today and I can sprint short distances if I want to. I still don’t know what to say, so she goes to work and I go back to what I was doing. 

I eventually decide to meet her at a bus stop and have it out. I have to wait several hours because she never gets off work at the same time. Today she's in a hurry and I still don't know what to say, and so I let her get away. I go back to the airfield and tell myself to just forget about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very good at saying "time passes." Especially in Zootopia where they have regions and don't have seasons. Snow is not in the winter, it's in Tundratown! This one was short, so I'll post the next chapter as well.


	17. Fox and bunny under the bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally we get to the happier parts. Judy knows where to find someone using night howlers and Nick has several ideas about how it's being applied. Together they can find out who's behind it and stop her.

My day started in the now too usual way without enough sleep, but this time something woke me up early, instead of me waking up when the sun got too high. Too much to drink, again, because of too much thinking and not enough sleeping, the night before. Unable to fall asleep until a few hours ago and unable to sleep enough in the day time.

My phone was still ringing. It wasn’t just the noises in my head… 

“Oh, hey, Finnic. How’re you doing?” I ask when I see his familiar face. We use Muzzletime, of course. It’s one of the new features on somebody or other’s newest phone. Finn and I had only recently acquired ours in the usual way.

“I’m great. Much better than you, clearly. Just roll out of the chair?” He seemed to be a little more cheerful than usual. Like a kit with a secret. 

“Yeah,” I say, scratching an armpit and waiting for him to get to the point. 

He finally does, or anyway, I think he does. “Just saw your bunny girlfriend. Here, looking for you. At first, I was thinking, Buzz Off! And then thinking Maybe Nick wants to talk to her? I wasn’t sure, so this troubled me.” His eyes took on a faraway look. 

“So? What did you tell her?”

“Told her where you lived. She’s got a truck and she’ll be there very soon. Have fun working with the fuzz!” He says and hangs up on me. 

She’s coming here? I sniff my armpit and realize I don’t smell great. What to do first? I run for the hanger and take a VERY quick shower, change clothes, and put my sunglasses back on. Then I start jogging toward my lawnchair under the bridge combing my fur as I go.

Now, what was I going to say when I saw her? “Judy, I respect and admire you more than you can ever know, but you hurt me so much I never want to see you again?” I mutter under my breath. Yeah, I thought, THAT will be great. "Very stupid, Wilde. You should put that on a card-" 

Then I hear the truck pull up and a door open and shut and then a familiar voice says “Nick!”

Did she hear what I just said? No, of course not. I settle back down in the lawn chair and grab an empty soda from yesterday so she’ll think I’ve been sitting here drinking juice all morning. Like I don’t have a care in the world. Like I don’t need her, never thought about her, and certainly never watched her working out several times in that park over by her apartment. 

“Nick. Someone is making predators go savage, probably using night howler flowers. I am not sure how they are doing it, or exactly who is behind it, but I know who can tell us!”

Well, that’s not what I expected her to say. I thought she’d at least apologize first. Instead, she’s only here because she needs my help? Just like when we talked about Cliffside and she pushed me to go too soon. Is she just using me because she isn't a cop anymore and can't get help from them?

“Isn’t that interesting?” I ask no one in particular as I get up off the chair on the side away from Judy and start to walk under the bridge. I take off my sunglasses and put them on a convenient bucket next to the soda can. I only need the glasses in the sunlight, and not under the bridge. 

She follows me and I fumble in my pocket for the recorder pen so I can give it back to her, but I accidentally turn it on. 

“Nick! Wait. I’m sorry, OK? I was a horrible friend and I hurt you and I do not blame you for walking away. But I need to fix this and I can’t do it without you. After we are done, you can hate me, and you can walk away knowing that you were right all along. I really am just a dumb bunny,” she says, sobbing. 

I don't hate her, and I don't think I can. I hold up the pen and hit the play button. 

“I really am just a dumb bunny” it says, and I play it again just to be sure. Then I turn around to look at Judy. She’s wiping tears from her eyes and waiting for me to make up my mind. It’s no decision, really. 

I spread my arms and say “Get in here.” She stumbles forward and puts her head on my chest. I pat her back. “You bunnies are so emotional.” I wrap my tail around her, but she doesn’t notice. 

“Are you just trying to steal the pen?” I ask as she makes a half hearted attempt to grab my right paw.

Then she steps on my tail. “You are stepping on my tail! Off off.”

“Sorry,” she says. 

“Let’s go and be cops again, OK?” I ask and she nods. 

I grab my sunglasses and we get in her pickup truck. I notice she has some blueberries in the front seat, so I help myself and wrap some up for later using an old rag from my pocket. 

“Wow. I thought you rabbits only grew carrots.”

"We grow all kinds of things," she says.

"So, you know how to find out who's behind this?"

"Yes," she replies and shows me a picture of Duke Weaselton. “Do you know this mammal?”

“I told you, Carrots. I know everybody. Get on the main road and take a left when I tell you. He’s probably selling bootleg videos on his favorite corner.”

"I caught him stealing night howler bulbs my second day on the job. He apparently told the chief they were moldy onions," she says. "The chief was really angry that day." 

"Isn't he always? I've heard he has quite a temper."

"Ah. He is all bark and no bite. Unless you get on his bad side, I suppose. I think he almost fired me that day," she says, remembering.

We find the Duke and get him to tell us who wanted the night howler plants using the oldest trick in the book. Good cop, bad cop. Or in this case, good con-mammal, extremely angry, former bunny cop. The weasel heard about those timber wolves that got on this rabbit's bad side and he has no interest in limping for the rest of his life, so he tells us the name of the buyer. 

“He's a ram and his name is Doug. There's a drop spot underground. But be careful. He’s the opposite of friendly. He’s unfriendly.”


	18. The train, the museum, the confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy and Nick know where to start looking again, but can they crack the case before something kills them? Life in Zootopia is very dangerous for our heroes!

We go to the drop spot, which turns out to be an old subway entrance that no one is using anymore. We go in, and then down some stairs, and see our destination. We appear to be entirely alone down here until a train passes us heading away from downtown. 

“OK, there’s the train car,” Nick says. “Now, what we need to do is-. Carrots! Wait!”

I cannot wait. We have to end this and that train is the final piece of the puzzle. I run toward it, with Nick following along. 

I pause near the back of the car, and listen. “Nick. Do you see anyone coming?” I ask, quietly. He replies the same way. 

“No, but they could be too far away, or around a corner. I can see better in the dark then other mammals, but there is very little light down here," he says. "Can we call in the cavalry now?"

"I can't get a signal down here. Can you?"

"No," he replies. 

This train car seems to be in pretty good shape. I climb up the back, and peer in through a convenient window. I do not want to use the door until I know more about what or who may be waiting for us. 

There is no one visible inside. There are two rows of purple flowers on benches, some lab equipment on a table with a stool, various bottles of flammable gas, and a doorway at the far end to what must be the control room in the front of the car. If Doug is here, we can not see or hear him. 

I enter the car through the window, and Nick follows quietly. I start using my camera to take a video of everything while Nick pokes around. 

It is a kind of cornucopia of evidence. On the wall, we see the list of mammals that Doug was apparently infecting. On both sides, we see the night howler plants that were used to make the drug, and the equipment over there appears to be used to concentrate it. 

“Look at this paint ball gun. I used to play with these things, but I was never a very good shot. And look at this ammunition… like blueberries, but I’m sure they aren’t! Not with all the chemistry equipment around and that condensation concentrator rig over there,” he says. 

“Grab the case. We might have to leave in a hurry and I want some physical evidence to show Chief Bogo.”

"Got it. Now can we go?" he asks. 

It is at this moment that we see a ram. He comes out of the front compartment while putting away headphones, so we hide under the benches with the flowers. He walks past us and doesn't see us. He pauses near the back door looking at his phone. 

Someone knocks on the door, the ram opens it. One of the rams outside says, "Don't worry. We got the extra foam this time."

I can see two rams outside and they will see us at any moment, so I knock this ram out of the car onto them and then lock the door. 

"Now what are we going to do?" Nick asks as they start banging on the door. "You locked us in here!"

"Now? We take the train."

This turns out to be less than the best escape plan. We get away from the rams, but end up taking a turn way too fast. The load shifts and the car tips over, sliding into a spot under the natural history museum. We smell smoke after it stops, so we climb out hurriedly. Nick brings the gun case and I still have my camera. 

“Let’s get away from this thing. I think it’s on fire,” Nick suggests. I think this is a great idea!

We go to the platform and take stock. 

“OK, you have the gun and I have pictures of the equipment in the car. Do you think there is anything else we-“ and then we are hit with a wall of hot air as the car explodes. Various pieces fly and bounce, but nothing comes very close to us. 

“We’re under the natural history museum. Let’s go up there and then across the plaza to ZPD,” Nick says. "Call them first?”

I try calling again, but I still cannot get a good connection.

“Let’s just get upstairs.”

The end is in site and we can see ZPD head quarters across the park when I hear a familiar voice call my name from behind. "Judy," Mayor Bellweather says. 

We stop running and I take a few steps toward her. Nick hangs back a bit and I wonder why as the lamb approaches. 

“Judy, you did a super job! Please hand me the case and I’ll take it to Chief Bogo.”

I am about to give her the case when I realize she should not be here right now. Her office is on the other side of the park in the center of the city and the only people that knew Nick and I would be here now are Doug and his associates. Also, how did she know we were taking the case to Bogo and “How did you get here so fast?” I ask. I need time to think about this. Bellweather has been working longer hours lately, but this is a Sunday.... 

“I’ll just take that case, OK?” she says, reaching for it. 

“No, I think Nick and I will take it to ZPD,” I say and look to Nick for confirmation. He is in total agreement and we are walking away from Bellweather toward the exit when we see another ram. This one is blocking our path. 

“Run!” I tell Nick and follow my own advice. 

We get away from the lamb and the rams briefly, but I injure myself because I'm not looking where I'm going. Nick grabs me and I grab the gun case. We take a breather behind some old equipment, while Bellweather takes the opportunity to start telling us why she has to do what she is doing. "Predators are strong and loud..."

“I can not run. Take the case and my camera and get it to ZPD,” I tell him, but quietly. 

“Not happening. I won’t leave you again,” he says, the same way. The last thing we need is for those sheep to hear us!

Nick tries to bandage my leg, but manages to spill blueberries on the ground when he forgets about them. That gives me an idea. 

We make a break for it a short while later, but one of the rams see us and warns the others. As expected, Nick can not carry me and the case and run fast enough to get away, so a ram intercepts us, knocking the two of us into a pit with a stuffed deer and some plastic vegetation. Nick looses the gun case in the process, but at least I still have my carrot pen and Nick didn't smash anything in his shirt pocket. 

The exhibition pit has various items, but nothing that would help us get away. The main feature is that it is deep enough that the rams are not going to jump down here and trample us, so that is good, but it is also too deep for us to climb out. I see a door, but I expect it is locked. 

Bellweather appears at the top near the edge with one arm behind her back. She adjusts her glasses with the other hoof. “Poor little bunny. Should have just stayed on the carrot farm, right?” She is all smiles, knowing she has us trapped. 

“Going to tell us your evil plan now?” Nick asks. He knows we can not call for help now. If we try, she will just shoot Nick and me, and maybe not with the night howler gun. 

She starts monologuing as I expected after hearing her justifications earlier. “I had to have Doug dart Otterton because I realized he might know too much. He is a plant expert, after all. Then that lead to darting Manchas because Otterton might have told him something. I didn’t need to do Mr. Big, but we got one of his polar bears anyway, just for fun. It’s so easy and prey mammals like you already believe preds are ready to go nuts at the drop of a hat. So gullible. So trusting.”

“What about Lionheart? Was he even in on it?”

“That moron? No. Far more useful to just point him in the right direction by making a pred go savage near him, make sure the staff at Cliffside saw him, and then watch him take the fall when the police inevitably discovered the location of all those missing mammals.”

Now she looks behind her, apparently does not see anyone from ZPD, and then turns more fully to Nick. “Mr. Fox, I presume? The guards didn’t know who at the mayor’s office they were talking to, but I told them to let you in that day. Thanks for your help getting the police involved. I couldn't do it, obviously.”

Nick grimaces, realizing how he was used and not liking it. 

“What are you going to do now, kill me?” I ask her. I know she has the gun behind her and I need her to use it. Then either she'll call ZPD, or I will in what she'll see as the last moments of my life. I hope she did not check the gun! 

“Kill you? No, no, I’m not. He is!” and she brings the gun around and shoots Nick with something that make a purple stain on his arm.

The fox goes into convulsions and I try to comfort him as the lamb calls ZPD. “Nick, fight it!” I tell him.

“Hello, ZPD? This is Mayor Bellweather at the natural history museum. There’s a savage fox and Officer Hopps is down! Please hurry!” and then she cuts the connection.

“There should be just enough time for him to kill you, or make a good start anyway, and time enough for me to watch from safety up here,” she says. 

Nick gets down on all fours and chases me through the diorama. I throw a stuffed, four legged deer at him and he spends some time destroying it. 

“So this is your plan? Prey fears predator and you stay in power?”

Nick has finished with the stuffed deer ancestor and is now stalking me through the fake grass. I am backed up all the way to the edge of the scene and can not scoot back any further. I am nowhere near the door. 

“Pretty much.”

“It will not work,” I tell her. I have my ears down behind me. 

Nick is very close now. He is growling and he has crazy eyes, but they do not look quite like the ones I saw in the mammals' eyes at Cliffside. Bellweather was not there, of course.

“Fear always works. I’ll dart every predator in Zootopia to make sure,” she says. “Bye bye bunny.”

I hope I got all that recorded! Now I just have to take care of Nick….

Nick jumps at me and I prepare to scream as he pretends to bite my neck. However, he changes the plan at the last minute and actually does bite my neck. Or more accurately, nips my neck and then nuzzles my ear. Wow. I had no idea this could feel so good! So… Wait a minute!

“Nick! You were supposed to pretend to bite my neck!”

He sits back on his haunches and cocks his head at me. “I was biting you, and you didn’t seem to mind.”

“That is not the point!”

“So you were enjoying it,” he says. “I could do it again?” Then he looks up at Bellweather. “Don’t you think she was enjoying it?” 

“But I shot you…” Bellweather is totally confused at this point. I consider telling her what happened, but I’m not sure what she’ll do. She might have more night howler pellets with her, so I do not tell her we switched the ammunition in the gun to blueberries. 

“Please. Shoot me again. Those things are great! You should try it.” Nick says, unable to contain his amusement. 

I get up and show Bellweather my recorder pen. “You just confessed to a conspiracy.”

“It’s my word against yours, bunny. You’re a former cop and he’s a con-mammal. I’m the mayor.”

“You were,” I tell her and play the recording of her conversation as Chief Bogo and the other cops arrive. 

“It’s called a hustle, sweetheart. Boom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a rap! I'll probably come back to it periodically to polish it up, as I tend to do. It can always be just a little [or a lot] better. I don't think I ever really finish any of my writing... I just hand it in. 
> 
> See "After the Arrest" for a continuation of the story. 
> 
> I'd like to mention several other authors that inspired me. The first is Tarienn and "Contrasts." Also, Kulkum and his work. Further from canon and more violent than this, but more exciting too, I think. If I do another story, I plan to write Nick more like that and less like this one. There are several others I read and I may eventually post the full list here.


End file.
